There and Back Again
by Independence-Day
Summary: Reposted: Trapped in a world that isn't theirs and fighting in a war they have no place in, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco must find a way to get back home before everything they love is destroyed.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** Welcome back, one and all, to There and Back Again. I realize that my, however temporary, suspension of the story was probably a surprise to many of you, but there is a good reason for it: I didn't like the story any more. I'd, very slowly and reluctantly, come to the realization that there were a lot of missed opportunities in the original, and while it wasn't necessarily a bad story, it wasn't up to my personal standards. I wasn't enjoying it anymore and was giving you all substandard work in an effort to just get through it, which isn't fair to you or me. Therefore, I sat down, did some research, and redid the outline. While the outline itself isn't finished yet, I believe I promised someone I would have this re-posted by Thanksgiving. Which is, as I'm writing this, tomorrow, so I'd better get on it, eh?

A warning: this is not the same story. I've rewritten it almost completely from scratch and there will be very little recognizable from the original save the general plot. If you're here hoping to see that story again, I'm afraid it's gone for good and I apologize for any disappointment. Hopefully you'll give this one a chance and will enjoy it just as much, if not more.

While the world this is set in is AU, I've tried to keep the Harry Potter universe to the books and the Lord of the Rings to the movie, because that's what I'm most familiar and comfortable with. I've almost finished my first reading of _The Fellowship_ and a lot of that will be incorporated into the story, but I don't claim to be an expert on any of the Tolkien books.

I'd like to thank everyone who followed and reviewed the original There and Back Again from the very bottom of my heart. You guys are the only reason I decided not to scrap the story completely and I'd also like to thank Writersbane1 personally for encouraging me to keep going. This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for, among other blessings, my wonderful readers and lurkers for supporting the story.

As always, flames will be met with a report, genuine criticism is encouraged with cookies.

Now. Shall we give this another go?

**Chapter 1: The Restricted Section**

Really, on top of everything else, the last thing Harry needed was Hermione's advice or her desperate need to prove the library did indeed hold the key to all knowledge.

It wasn't that Harry didn't appreciate her help. He did. He wouldn't have gotten anywhere near where he was now without her, or subsequently the library, but… it seemed to Harry that his fight against Voldemort would be just that: his. His meetings with Dumbledore, the few of them there had been, were geared to preparing him to face the madman, and it was clear enough to Harry he'd eventually have to face The Dark Lord alone. Why Hermione couldn't see that he just didn't know. Nor did he understand why she and Ron both looked at him with expressions of equal parts pity and worry when he so much as glanced at Draco.

Wasn't it obvious he was up to something? What, Harry had no idea, but he knew it was in service of Voldemort. That necklace hadn't ended up in Katie's hands by accident; Malfoy had given it to her, Harry was convinced. Malfoy'd known about it, been in Borgin and Burke's right before school had started and bought it. Just because no one believed him didn't mean it wasn't true. He just needed proof that Malfoy was up to something, then they'd believe him for sure.

As it was, Hermione did agree with Harry on one thing: they had to know as much about Voldemort's past as possible. The most recent meeting with Dumbledore had left her curious, even more so than usual about other things. As usual, she'd locked herself in the library intent on finding something. Clearly she had picked up on something that Harry had missed with Dumbledore's cryptic words about Voldemort's tendency to collect things: _Bear in mind this magpie-like tendency, for this, particularly, will be important later_. The moment Harry had finished the sentence her eyes had gone all wide and manic, as they do when Hermione'd thought of something brilliant, and she'd bolted off to the library with a muttered goodbye after breakfast.

Ron and Harry had only seen her during class, and even then she'd mostly ignored them and spent most of class scribbling down notes on a very crumpled looking piece of paper, as though determined to remember every thought going through her head the instant she thought it. She hadn't even taken notes during History of Magic, though she had glanced up when Binns had said something about the Third Age, or something similar. Harry and Ron were so surprised by her behavior they'd gone to Parvati Patil and asked her what was going on, not that she'd been much help: "Shouldn't you know?" She'd said "You three are practically glued at the hip."

Hermione had skipped lunch, and was even absent for dinner which, despite her insane study habits, was unusual for her. Harry was really starting to worry when Hermione pelted into the Great Hall, her hair flying every which way as she darted over to them. She practically fell into her seat, took a swallow of pumpkin juice and said "Later," before Harry or Ron could even get the words out to ask her what was going on.

"Later nothing!" Ron said indignantly "You've been acting odd all day! Been driving me and Harry bonkers!"

"Later!" she hissed, jerking her chin at Dean and Seamus, who were listening intently. Without another word she piled her plate with food and began eating as fast as she could without choking.

'Later' didn't come until well after midnight. Situated in front of the fire in the common room, Harry and Ron were trying to catch up on a last minute potions essay set by Snape after Seamus' cauldron had bubbled over and soaked the bottom of his robes, when Hermione burst into the room and threw Harry's Invisibility Cloak into his lap.

"Hermione, what-?"

"Wake Ron!" she said excitedly "I found something in the library, but I need to do more research on it!"

"So," said Ron, sitting up and pulling a piece of parchment off his face "do research. What'd you need us for?"

Hermione turned to him "Because Ronald, the book I need is in the Restricted Section and I hardly think any of the professors will want anyone seeing it, especially with what's going on. Now get up Ron! This book could really help Harry!" She demanded, pulling Ron off the sofa.

Harry and Ron barely had time to pull the cloak over the three of them before Hermione started for the door at a fast clip, rushing out the portrait hole so quickly the Fat Lady barely had time to demand who was there before they'd gone down the steps and around the corner. Harry had no idea how they managed to make it to the library without getting caught, they were moving so hurriedly. There was no way to muffle their footsteps, and they bumped into each other several times in attempts to keep under the cloak and hidden, despite the fact their feet were clearly visible. They'd barely shut the library doors behind them when they heard Filch's wheezing as he walked by, searching for trouble makers. Hermione didn't allow them so much a sigh of relief and promptly dragged them back to the Restricted Section and threw herself onto the covers, scanning them so quickly Harry and Ron had barely registered what they were.

"Hermione, any hint on what we're looking for?" Harry demanded in a quiet whisper.

"_A Brief History of Dark Lords_," she murmured, ducking down to check books on the bottom shelf.

"Sounds cheery," Ron grumbled, pulling his wand and lighting the tip to check titles.

Hermione threw the cloak off of her head in frustration and continued searching for the book "And a little too obvious. Why had I never thought to look in this section before?" She muttered, disappearing around the bookshelf to check the other side.

Harry shrugged the cloak off of him and Ron, and carefully stuffed it in his robes to keep from losing it. It took well over two hours to find the book, and when they finally did it was only to find that entire sections of it were written in different languages. Parts had even been ripped out entirely, leaving large chunks of history missing and odd jagged bits of paper stuck inside so that it closed crookedly. _A Brief History of Dark Lords_ was old, dusty, and beat up, but weighed about the same as Harry's Transfiguration and Potions textbooks did combined.

"'Brief', it says," Ron grumbled as they flipped through the dry, cracking pages of the massive book "This'll take ages to read."

"You forget we have Hermione. She'll have it finished in a week."

Hermione frowned down at the missing pages "Oh, I hope they haven't taken out what we need. After all this trouble…" she gingerly stroked the torn edges of the missing pages "What some wizards will do just to cover things up," she muttered.

"What's been covered up?" Ron asked.

Hermione ignored him "We can't keep this book with us; we might get caught with it. We need a place to hide it when we aren't reading it."

Harry smiled "I have just the place in mind."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** I've actually had this written for a bit now, but I was hesitant to post too much before I had my outline completely finished. Given circumstances beyond my control, I still haven't completely finished my outline, but I'm far ahead enough now that I don't mind posting more regularly.

Just finished my fall semester yesterday, so I have until January 9th until classes start again, which gives me some free time to work on this. Maybe there'll be more updates? Who knows? I'm playing this by ear a little bit here.

**Chapter 2 The Room of Requirement**

Hermione was uncharacteristically agreeable to leaving the book in The Room of Requirement. As cluttered and full as the room was, Harry thought for sure that Hermione would want it somewhat closer to her watchful eye. In the time it had taken to sneak from the library to the seventh floor, Hermione had grown attached to the damaged tome, muttering to herself about mistreating valuable books and ways in which she was going to try and restore it.

It was too late at night to start reading the thing then, and they were forced to leave it right by the door, carefully marked by a stack of old copper cauldrons. Harry led the way back to the common room, feeling anxious. Hermione hadn't explained much about the book, and said nothing more about it when they reached the common room and slipped out from under the cloak. Only that she didn't want them interfering too much.

"I only have a theory and not much of one really." She said "So just let me worry about the book for now. I'll let you know if I find anything of interest."

For the next week or so, Harry and Ron didn't see much of Hermione. When not in class or eating as fast as she could swallow food, she was in the Room of Requirement reading _A Brief History of Dark Lords_. Those rare moments Hermione was in the common room she was usually found scribbling on parchment, making notes about things she'd read from the book and ignored many attempts for conversation. When not doing homework she was regularly surrounded by stacks of other books, probably to reference information she had read while in the Room of Requirement. She was tense and temperamental, often seen with a scowl on her face or heard muttering to herself. She had very nearly forgotten about S.P.E.W. and it seemed the house-elves were thankful for this, as her efforts over the past few years had left them annoyed and hesitant to clean the common room.

Finally, one morning during breakfast, Hermione approached Ron and Harry looking grim but relieved. Sitting down to a plate of pancakes and a mug of pumpkin juice she set down a large stack of papers and leaned forward. "I found something in the book," she murmured, laying a hand on the stack of papers "This is all the research I've done, but unfortunately this is all there is in the library."

Harry's eyes fell on the thick stack of paper "That's _all_?"

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated, and if you'd paid attention in History of Magic you might know why that's all." Hermione said haughtily. "That book was one of few that survived a large scale cover up conducted by the Ministry, and even then it hardly made it out unscathed." She sighed "Half of what I was looking for was torn out, and I still don't know as much as I'd like to."

Ron looked up from his plate "Dad mentioned something about a cover up to me once. Something about a great war and a Dark Lord or something. Said all records from that time were destroyed, because Muggles knew too much."

Hermione's eyes got bright "Not all the information. Some leaked through, and I've found a lot of it in the library."

Harry frowned "But if it's covered up, why would information on it be in the school library?"

"Most of it's in the Restricted Section. I'd bet my wand that Dumbledore had collected the books and put them in there to protect them from the Ministry." She sniffed disdainfully "_He_ has plenty of respect for books and knowledge."

"So, whaff's in de book?" Ron asked around a mouthful of sausage.

Hermione grimaced at his table manners, but pressed on "It's all really fascinating. I wish I could keep the book longer, but I think Madame Pince might suspect something. I'll have to return it soon." She passed Harry the notes she had taken "Skip through that when you get the chance, and be in the common room tonight at midnight. That's all background information on what I found in _A Brief History of Dark Lords_. It'll make it easier for me to explain what I've found after you've read through all that."

Harry held up the stack of paper and looked at it dubiously "Hermione, when am I meant to read this? I've got class."

She shot him a look "When's the last time you actually paid attention in Potions or History of Magic?"

Harry took the sheaf of papers without comment, and went back to his breakfast, ignoring her smug look. The day was spent reading through Hermione's notes, which alone could have been a book. Fifty pages of what was supposed to be references and brief footnotes turned out to be a very complicated summary of a great war that had taken place many ages ago, before recorded history (as far as Muggles were concerned at least). The first ten pages was just a list of names and a short description of who the person was and what they did and the other thirty or so pages was a brief explanation of events. Another ten were dedicated to a list of locations, and events that had taken place at them, and on the back of one was a roughly drawn map with such tiny writing and sketches Harry couldn't properly read most of it. A great many of them had the word 'magical' scrawled over them and these areas took up a good eighty percent of the map.

Harry suspected that's why the Ministry had tried to cover up the war, as it seemed that the wizards from that time were open about their powers, though only a few names on Hermione's massive list had been labeled with the word wizard. And despite the fifty something pages of information, it was only a brief history and explanation of the war. According to a note at the top of the first page, this was only some of the information, and a lot of it was conjecture on Hermione's part. Knowing Hermione, by the time Harry had finished skimming through the stack of papers after dinner; she had already found all the missing information and was planning on compiling a book to fill in the gaps.

Ron felt the same about all of it, and while Harry actually did try and read through most of the information, Ron would skim through briefly, shake his head, and say "Why are you reading it? You know Hermione's got it all memorized."

Regardless, when they met with her in the common room at midnight, it was to find her with her nose stuck in another book, this one written completely in ancient runes, while another small stack of papers contained a translation.

Ron flopped down onto the sofa next to her "Homework?"

"No," she carefully shuffled her papers to keep Ron from crumpling them "I'm translating a passage from this book. It's entirely in Ancient Runes, and probably the only one of the books on The Third Age that was left in one piece."

"What's The Third Age?"

Harry sat down across from them, careful to avid eye contact with Hermione, who had frozen in place, looking shocked "Ronald Bilius Weasley, do you mean to tell me that I took a week of my time to write all that out for you, only for you to not read it?" She demanded. She rounded on Harry "Did _you_ read it?"

"Every word."

Her eyes narrowed sharply "Where was The One Ring found and by who?"

Ron rolled his eyes "Hermione, we're not being tested on this."

When she didn't relent Harry racked his brain to remember, trying to avoid looking at her "Er… A cave wasn't it? And it was found by… Bulbo something or another…?"

"A cave in the Misty Mountains, which would be somewhere in modern day Germany," she snapped "and it was Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit of the Shire which would be in present day South-West England." Her narrowed eyes pinned him in place for a moment, but then she said "Close enough. At least _Harry_ read my notes." She sniffed.

Ron looked annoyed "I read them too! And he didn't even get the answers right!"

"There was a lot of information in those notes Ron; of course he's going to get some of it mixed up!" Hermione retorted. "You'd know that if you'd bothered to read them."

"Oh, come off it-!"

"So, what'd you find in the book?" Harry cut in suddenly. Harry wasn't sure if she was trying to get a rise out of him, or was just trying to make a point, but he wasn't willing to sit and watch the two of them get into an argument over it.

Hermione turned to him "I'll be honest with you Harry, I'm not sure if I've found anything… solid, but it is fascinating and if you bring it up to Dumbledore during your next meeting, he might be able to elaborate." She glanced over to the window where Dean and Seamus were playing exploding snap, then leaned in and murmured "I'll tell you when we get to… well, when we get there."

Ron sighed "I hope all this is worth it."

They stayed in the common room until well after midnight, when Dean and Seamus finally stood, stretched, and made their way up to the dormitory with a muffled goodnight. Harry waited a few minutes, to make sure they were asleep, then crept up and got the Invisibility Cloak. This time Hermione let them take their time sneaking through the corridors, which was a good thing. Several times they'd almost run headlong into a ghost, and while Harry was sure they couldn't see them, they might notice someone walking through them. They stumbled across Mrs. Norris at one point, and had her following them through the corridor for a few very tense minutes, her lamp-like eyes fixed on them, as though wondering what they thought they were doing. Filch had appeared out of nowhere not long after, searching for trouble makers, and when he found none slinked out of sight, looking disappointed. They'd even seen Snape, but he seemed distracted and preoccupied, and barely looked up when Ron cursed because Harry had trodden on his foot by accident.

They made it to The Room of Requirement without any serious incidents, and the moment the door had shut behind them, Ron pulled off the cloak with a relieved sigh. "Thought we'd never make it…"

Hermione had already dived on the book, which she'd relocated to a more convenient spot in the room. The piles of misplaced odds and ends had created a sort of niche in the comer nearest the door. Hermione had found cushions from couches, pillows, and chairs, and had made a nice little studying corner for herself, well hidden from view. It was clear she'd been spending a lot of time here; if the empty tea cups, bottles of ink, and stacks of parchment and piles of broken quills were any indication. Several lamps sat idly, half full of oil, and teetering stacks of other damaged books she'd dug out of other piles were sitting around her studying area in leaning stacks of bent spines and damaged covers. She'd found a wobbly desk, to store the books in, and it seemed she'd taken to trying to restore them when not reading, as spare spines, quills and clean parchment was scattered everywhere..

"Hermione," Harry started, looking at her little study corner. It was like Hermione's brain had exploded in this one little section of The Room of Requirement "how often have you been coming up here?"

"Every night for the last week or so," She said, sitting and _pulling A Brief History of Dark Lords_ towards her "there's a lot of information to sort through. I've found so many books in here about Middle Earth, it's a little alarming. I wouldn't be surprised if Headmasters and Professors had been hiding these books for centuries now… some of them certainly seem old enough."

Ron yawned, "Fascinating. So what'd you find?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes on him, but carefully flipped through the book until she found a dog eared page. "Harry, I didn't put this in the notes." She said as they bent over the book. "It's just too convoluted to try and explain on parchment without weeks more of research."

"And what you gave me was simple?"

"It was background information." She snapped. "And it's important you at least have some inkling of what was going on during Sauron's time."

"Who's Sauron?" Ron asked immediately, but went quiet when he caught sight of Hermione's glower at being interrupted.

"Sauron," she said testily, "was a Dark Lord during the Third Age, one of the parts of Wizard History the Ministry's got covered up. He was really powerful, and really dangerous, but was eventually defeated during the War of the Ring."

"What's he got to do with Volde- sorry." Harry said when Hermione's annoyed look fixed on him "Go on then."

She huffed, then continued "There's no simple way to explain everything that went on, but what you need to know Harry is… well. I'm not really sure, because there's no way to be certain of course, but I think Sauron might have… inspired Voldemort." She looked pleased with herself when Harry and Ron's jaws both dropped at this news "There are so many similarities between them! They both took power in similar ways, amassed followers, dabbled in the Dark Arts and when they were defeated they didn't really die. They were bodiless and powerless entities sort of floating about." Her eyes went bright, and she pointed at something on the page, but it was written in Runes and Harry couldn't read it "This is what got my attention. Sauron created a ring of power, so when he was defeated the first time he would be able to come back to power eventually. Some writings say this One Ring had a mind of its own, was almost alive, but that sounds like a load of fairy tales and hokum."

Harry looked at her incredulously "Moving paintings don't bother you, but a Ring with a mind of its own is a fairytale?"

Hermione moved on without him "For some reason it reminded me of what Dumbledore said to you Harry, about Voldemort's magpie like habit, but I can't put my finger on why." She sighed "That's why I initially didn't want to show you any of this. There are similarities, sure, but still so many questions…"

"Well," said Harry "it's a theory. And it's better than what we've got."

"Which is a test tomorrow, because Snape's an arse."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** Happy Holidays everyone, I hope you are all enjoying your breaks!

I've had this chapter about halfway written for a while now, but hadn't gotten around to editing it until just now. The ending is… well. I'd like some honest opinions on it, please. It's my first time writing something… well. Just tell me what you think. Honestly.

Please enjoy, and stay safe over your holidays!

**Chapter 3: A Voice in The Darkness**

The next week was spent either doing homework, eating, or sneaking off to The Room of Requirement or library to try and find more information on Sauron and any connection between him and Voldemort. Time crawled by at a snail's pace, minutes feeling like hours and hours like days, as the trio scoured the books they'd collected for more information on Sauron. Whatever connection he might have to Voldemort was well hidden and Harry was struck by the irony in the situation. For the first time in memory, it seemed The Ministry had done their job properly. Too bad the job they had done was now preventing Harry from finding out what might be incredibly important information. It seemed to Ron and Hermione that Harry had even forgotten about his obsession with Draco, in lieu of searching for information, though this certainly wasn't true.

Harry had been keeping an eye on the Slytherin Prince, a very watchful eye, but so far hadn't noticed anything of value. Draco was his usual, arrogant, and very annoying self, but something in his demeanor was changed. He seemed to be losing weight, like he wasn't eating well, and his skin was paper-like and sallow, with the purple smudges of sleepless nights under his eyes. He looked tired and ill tempered, and was avoiding his friends, as he was rarely seen with them any more and sat alone during meal times. Pansy seemed to have taken this as a personal insult, and was now flirting with Blaise Zambini in an attempt to make Draco jealous. From what Harry could tell, Draco was too tired to notice or care, and instead went about his day in his usual fashion, though it seemed his swagger was a bit diminished. He was even openly avoiding Harry now, which was odd as Draco usually never gave up an opportunity to mock him.

Harry was itching to follow Draco, to get a chance to see where he was going and what he was up to. Every time he thought he had a free moment Draco disappeared, or Hermione made another suggestion about Sauron, or the Third Age or something, and Harry was distracted. Hermione's distractions came a little too quickly and frequently to be coincidence, but Harry didn't really mind. He still had the map, he could always find Draco with it, and catch up with him.

Friday night found a break in the monotony. Ron and Harry were in The Room of Requirement, skimming through passages they'd practically memorized and surrendering some of these volumes to Crookshanks, who claimed any book not being read as his own. Ron, in his boredom and frustration, had taken to levitating random objects around the room, trying to make the piles as tall as he could before they toppled over. Harry was tired from the late nights spent searching the library, and could barely focus on the page. The words blended together, sentences seemed to repeat themselves, and it took far too long to get through a simple paragraph of text. Sighing in frustration, he shut the book and rolled over, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

A moment later Hermione crept into the room, pulling the Invisibility Cloak off of her. Harry groaned and buried his face when he caught sight of the stack of books in her hands, but Hermione shushed him "Quiet! I think someone was following me!"

Ron rolled his eyes "Hermione, you were under the cloak, who could have possibly been-?"

She shushed him "I almost ran into Mrs. Norris, Ron, and she heard me gasp. Oh, don't look at me like that Harry, it's not as though you and Ron are experts in stealth and secrecy!"

"But you're a prefect, Hermione," Ron pointed out "We're allowed to be out after hours."

"With a sack of books from the Restricted Section while hiding under the Invisibility Cloak?" She snapped waspishly "Yes, that'd go over swimmingly with Professor Snape wouldn't it?"

"Shush!" Harry demanded, sitting up "I thought I heard something!"

They waited, each holding their breath, hoping to make as little noise as possible. When, after a few tense moments, there was no other sound, they each sighed in relief and Hermione set down her new stack of books, then flopped on a cushion next to Crookshanks. "So, have we found anything new?"

"Yeah, this manky old cauldron with something growing-"

"About Middle Earth or Sauron?" Hermione cut in.

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes again "No. It's just the same general statement about an ancient war, and farther and farther apart. It's like The Ministry was trying to make everyone forget they had even mentioned it a hundred pages ago."

"You'd be surprised how quickly wizards will forget little details like that." Hermione said, flipping open a new book of runes "Frankly, I'm surprised there were so many books about The Third Age hidden in here, given the large scale cover up. We found, what, ten, eleven books?"

The first book had been stumbled upon, literally, by Ron, who'd been hoping to find a potion's book like Harry's in all the mess and madness. Instead, he had tripped on a rotting old tome of ancient runes that, once translated, revealed a great deal about The War of The Ring, which had taken place during Sauron's second return to power. Hermione had performed a basic summoning charm to find more similar books, and they'd found a veritable mine of information on Middle Earth, the people's and some of the locations… but little on Sauron. It seemed that even people in his own time didn't know much about him, or were reluctant to include him in their history. Another similarity he had with Voldemort, but still no connection to the magpie-like tendency Hermione had remembered. It seemed Harry would have to wait for his next meeting with Dumbledore to get more clues on it, and then see if, perhaps, they could find more information.

"Maybe we need to search closer to our own time?" Ron suggested "I mean, He's not going to be using Ancient Magic like that is He? It's forgotten, Dead Magic. Good for stories, but not much else, since everyone's forgotten the old spells and stuff."

Harry nodded; remembering the night so long ago that Voldemort himself had mentioned that he'd forgotten the same, Ancient Magic that had kept Harry alive. He was more concerned with the here and now, probably thinking himself above what he might consider rudimentary magic.

Harry happily shut the book he'd been trying to read "I guess that's a trip back to the Restricted Section then?"

"Oh, maybe another time Potter." Harry's stomach dropped to his toes as a very familiar, drawling voice came out of the darkness "I think Professor Snape would rather see you in his office." Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadowy room, a very satisfied smirk on his pointed face.

"Oh no," Ron groaned and Hermione looked dumbfounded, as though she'd been struck by lightning.

They were caught, and with everything Malfoy was certain to have heard, Harry had a sickening thought that left his stomach roiling… They were expelled, at the very least, and the tension that had been in the room for the last week seemed to intensify, thickening the air.

"So," Draco started, leaning casually against a pile "I'll let Professor Snape dole out the punishments, but I don't mind tacking on. That's twenty points from Gryffindor, no, fifty… each. At least."

Harry snorted, then rose "Yeah, because I'm so concerned with the House Cup right now."

"Tsk, tsk, talking out of turn, there's another ten. And I know you've got better things to worry about Potter," Draco's eyes glittered "like the fact you, Weasley and the Mudblood are sure to be expelled for all this." He grinned "At least." Ron started to move forward, but Draco held up his wand "Ah, mind that temper of yours. You're already treading thin ice."

Hermione stood up "Draco, you don't realize how important this information is! It could-"

"To the Ministry? I'm sure they'd love to hear just how much digging you've been doing into this little cover up you mentioned and I'm sure Professor Snape would love to be the one to-"

"_Ash nazg durbatulûk…_"

Everyone froze as an echoing, gravely voice filled the room. Crookshanks hissed and dove out of sight, hackles raised and ears flat against his skull. The lanterns they'd turned on to read by flickered and died, leaving them in darkness. It seemed the entire room shook, and precariously balanced stacks of junk toppled with loud echoing crashes. When everything went still again, four wand tips lit at the same time, and the four found themselves standing in a circle, squinting into the darkness.

Draco's trembling voice filled the vibrating silence "W-what the bloody hell are you-?"

"It's not us!"

"You really think we could-?"

The room suddenly vibrated again, the lights of their wands dimmed, and the four jumped; upsetting stacks of books as the same dark, angry voice filled the room again, leaving the four feeling cold.

"_Ash nazg gimbatul…_"

It was Ron's voice that filled the silence now "Hermione, what's going-?"

"Unless this is some stupid prank by Malfoy-!"

"How the hell would I manage to-?"

"Crabbe and Goyle!" Came Ron's accusing voice, though it sounded more as though he was trying very hard not to faint right where he was.

"They aren't prefects! They can't-!"

"_**Ash nazg thrakatulûk…**_"

A flash of red light illuminated the room, for the briefest of seconds revealing their terrified faces and the image of a tall, strangely beautiful man. His eyes chilled them right to the bone, so light a shade of blue they were almost white. His handsome face was framed by thick, dark hair, and he was dressed in heavy, dark armor. When the flash of red vanished, the lanterns flickered back on a moment. Draco was paler than usual, sweaty and already stumbling over himself to get out of the room, a green looking Ron right behind him. Hermione and Harry threw a glance at each other before turning and streaking after Ron and Draco, who had already disappeared around a stack of debris.

Just as Harry and Hermione came to it, Draco and Ron shot back around, and the four ended up in a confused pile on the floor. Draco and Ron were paler than before, shaking violently and scrambling to escape, Ron trying to pull Harry and Hermione along with him. A moment later they found out why they had doubled back. In the darkness stretching into The Room of Requirement, thousands of pairs of glowing green eyes could be seen, bobbing and weaving as a wave of shadows rushed towards the four on the ground. Sounds echoed through the room, screaming, shouts, war chants and drums, curses in the same evil, ancient language that had only just filled the room.

The four disentangled themselves and rushed back to the circle of light they'd left, shooting fearful glances back over their shoulders at the oncoming wave. The moment Harry, who'd been at the back, stepped back in the circle of light, everything stopped. A ringing silence fell in The Room of Requirement, filled only by Draco's whimpers of terror. Hermione was gripping Harry's hand so tightly it felt as though it might come off, and just as he was about to try and free himself, the voice came back:

"_**Burzum-ishi krimpatul!**__"_

A rush of hot air blew toward them from all sides, bringing loose papers and debris with it. They ducked, hitting the floor as papers and quills, broken brooms and cracked crystal balls came flying towards them. Harry slipped and fell, his foot coming down awkwardly on one of the books they'd been researching with, and he scrambled back into Draco, who toppled over top of him. Harry looked up, as the funnel of hot, impossibly dry air funneled upward, carrying the debris with it. Draco followed his gaze, and his face went deathly white. He looked to Harry in fear, and Harry could only stare upwards into the funnel as it once again redirected and slammed down on the four with the force of a tidal wave.

The last thing Harry heard was Hermione's shriek of terror before everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** Happy late New Years everyone! Hope everyone had a safe and fun holiday!

Here's our next installment. Hopefully everyone's in character, but since I kept it fairly close to the scene in the movie I had a bit of trouble. Hope it worked out okay and that everyone enjoys this chapter!

**Chapter 4: Lost**

Harry woke up to the smell of grass and dirt.

"Harry! Please, Harry get up!"

Someone was yelling, shaking him, and telling him to get up. He'd been having the weirdest dream.

"Harry, c'mon mate, we gotta go!"

He didn't remember too much of it now. There'd been darkness, and then noises. Rumbling and shaking, eyes in the dark… a scream of terror…

Hermione.

He sat bolt right up and practically head butted Ron, who'd been leaning over him in an attempt to wake him. Immediately Ron seized him by the armpits and heaved him upright yelling "Finally! Go Hermione, we'll catch up!"

"Ron hurry! The dogs!"

Harry found himself in a corn field, Ron at his side, and Hermione diving into the corn. There were voices, yelling, the barking and growling of dogs, the bellow of some enraged man "Get outta my field! I'll feed you to my dogs!"

"Ron, wha-?"

Before Harry could get his bearings Ron had seized his arm and bolted into the corn after Hermione. "Later, we have to go!"

"But where-?"

There was a sudden growling, the snap of jaws, and Harry turned just in time to see the flash of teeth as a massive dog leapt at him. He turned and ran flat out, Ron leading the way. He could see Hermione's hair bobbing in and out of sight in the corn, and ahead of her the familiar blonde hair of Draco. He could feel the flash of teeth of the angry dog as it chased after him, heard the thud of paws on the ground as what sounded like a whole pack ran after them.

An unfamiliar voice yelled "Hurry! Run!"

Harry sprinted after Ron, the dogs snapping at his heels, getting whipped in the face by corn, stumbling over toppled stalks.

"Dunno why he's so upset! It's only a couple of carrots!" Came another unfamiliar voice.

Finally they burst out of the corn field and skidded down the slight incline of a hill, stopping just before they ran into a group of four odd little men. At a glance Harry could tell they weren't children, despite their size, but he didn't get much time to dwell on it. Apparently Ron had had too much momentum and couldn't stop in time and bowled into Harry, who toppled into Hermione, which started a chain reaction. The group all went over in a domino effect, sliding down the steep incline of the hill. The world spun dizzily as Harry toppled, with Ron, Hermione, Draco and the strangers whirling in and out of sight, before finally coming to a standstill as the group landed in a large, convoluted pile at the base of the slope.

There was a pause as everyone waited, and when the sounds of angry bellows and the barks of dogs faded away there was a collective sigh of relief, though it sounded much closer to a huff of impatience from Draco. He shoved and pulled, tugging himself free of the pile.

"Keep your filthy, Mudblood hands to yourself, Granger!"

Hermione sat up on the other side of Harry "That wasn't me Malfoy, and I hope you and Ron had a lovely time over there." Ron blanched.

The four strangers groaned and moaned, pulling themselves up and dusting off their clothes. Harry got the sudden sense that something was very, very wrong. Dressed in his Hogwarts robes, Harry felt very out of place with these smaller men, who were wearing coats, vests, breeches, and no shoes. Their feet were big and hairy, and if they didn't have different colored hair and eyes Harry probably wouldn't have been able to tell them apart.

He looked around. They were sitting at the side of a dirt road, in what appeared to be a forest. Nothing looked familiar, and the others looked deeply concerned "Hermione, what happened? Where are we?"

The shorter men looked at them nervously. "Beg your pardon," said the stoutest of the four. His hair was very curly, a light brown color, and his eyes were brown. "But you're in Hobbiton mister…"

Harry gave him a blank look and looked at Hermione "What?"

"Oh Harry, I don't know what happened!" Hermione said, wringing her hands. "All I know is that when I woke up we were in a corn field and you all were unconscious… I have no idea what's happened…" She looked beside herself.

The tallest of the four, with very dark hair and bright blue eyes stepped forward cautiously "I think you'd four best explain yourselves… who are you? What are four children of men doing here without escort?"

The first man stepped forward and pulled his friend back. He muttered under his breath at him, but Harry just caught the words: "…careful, they might be spies of the Dark Lord…"

Harry stood up "We aren't servants of Voldemort!" Harry was struck by the fact that the tallest of these men just came to his chest. It was unnerving, talking to adults the size of children. They had to be adults though. They didn't act or talk like kids, and they certainly didn't dress like children

The other four looked confused. The first man spoke again "What's this Voldemort you're talking about? Never heard of any such thing!"

Harry's jaw dropped. Never heard of Voldemort? He eyed them for a moment, trying to figure out if this was some kind of very sick joke, and then looked back at the others dumbstruck faces. Even Draco looked startled. Ron stepped forward "You mean to tell me, you all haven't heard of You-Know-Who?"

Another man, this one smaller than the rest with wavy, dark golden hair and extremely hairy feet said "No, we don't know who."

The tallest spoke again "We do know that you're strangers to these parts. What's your business in Hobbiton?"

"None of yours." Draco sneered.

The stout man "You mind your attitude with Mister Frodo!"

Hermione started "Frodo? As in… Frodo Baggins? Of The Shire?"

The dark haired man took a step back "How do you know my name?"

Hermione didn't answer just looked around anxiously at the others, shaking her head and muttering "It can't… we can't be…how-?"

"You answer him, Miss!" The stout man demanded again.

Hermione just shook her head and looked around, searching for something and ignoring the others, still whispering to herself. Harry had a sudden thought, remembering Hermione's notes on places called The Shire, Hobbiton, and a Hobbit called Baggins… No. There was no way. It wasn't possible… was it? How could it be? He looked at Ron, who had stumbled on the same thought, and the two just gaped at the other four.

Ron stepped forward "So… you're Hobbits?" They nodded. Ron pointed at Frodo "And you… are you ...? You're carrying the-?" Hermione shook her head, but it was too late.

"I knew it!" The stout Hobbit bellowed. "I knew it, you _are_ spies! You just leave Mister Frodo alone!" He dove in front of Frodo, who had back pedaled away. The other two looked at their fellows in confusion, but still looked ready to defend their friend if necessary.

Hermione wheeled around "No! We aren't spies! I swear! We aren't servants of Sauron! I promise!" She looked desperately at Harry and Ron, who weren't sure what to say and Draco just looked confused, but very annoyed.

"What the bloody hell are you all arguing about?"

"We're wizards!" Hermione said desperately.

The four exclaimed "Wizards!" and backed away even further.

Frodo spoke again "Then why has Gandalf never told us of four young wizards?" His eyes narrowed. "You _are_ spies! Keep away! I'll-!"

Hermione waved her hands frantically "No! No! We aren't! I'm sorry we scared you! We're lost! Something back home went horribly wrong and-!"

Frodo suddenly shushed her, looking past her down the road. Everything was slowly going dark, mist gathered between the trees, the birds stopped singing, and Frodo suddenly looked panicked. Hermione looked over her shoulder frantically, then grabbed Harry and Ron and dove off the road into the brush.

"Hurry! Get off the road!" She yelled. They followed her without complaint, but Ron and Harry gave each other questioning looks as she dragged them into the thick underbrush. She turned back to Draco as the Hobbits dove into the roots of a tree, following Frodo. "Draco, please! Listen to me, your life might depend on this-!"

Draco looked back down the road, apprehensive, and when the sounds of hooves hitting the soil grew closer he started, and dove into the brush with them. Just as his robes disappeared into the underbrush a rider, dressed in all black robes and riding a black horse came into view. The horse stamped and threw its head, impatient, but the rider just waited. The hood covered the face, and Harry was left with the same, distinct feeling that Dementors left him with: the same horrible, drowning feeling that'd he'd never be happy again, the cold knot in his stomach… He carefully dug out his wand, and aimed it at the rider, but Hermione grabbed his hand and shook her head.

They watched as, in a fluid motion, the rider dropped from its horse and bent down next to the tree the Hobbits were hidden in, clearly searching for them. A noise came from it, as though it was sniffing, and it bent its head down farther. The Hobbits shot terrified, angry looks at Harry and the others, clearly asking for help and placing blame. They couldn't see Frodo. Harry looked at Hermione, whose eyes were fixed on the Hobbits, her lips pinched against making any sound. Harry aimed his wand down the road, opposite of where the rider had come from, and mustered the happiest thought he could. He was back at Hogwarts, safe, with no worries about Voldemort or any dark lords of any persuasion. Ginny was there, smiling and curled next to him on the couch in front of the fire.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Harry muttered as quietly as possible.

The familiar shape of a stag shot out of the end and into the road. The black rider looked up just in time to see it turn and bound away, leaving behind a silvery trail. The rider leapt onto his horse and galloped after it with a loud, inhuman screech. When he was a fair distance away, they all came out of their hiding places and took off in the opposite direction, into the woods. They ran for a bit, slipping and sliding down the slopes of a hill, stumbling on rocks and roots, bobbing in and out of trees, and when they finally skidded to a stop the four Hobbits looked at them in wonder.

"That was magnificent!" Said the shortest.

His companion, a Hobbit who looked remarkably like him though his feet were less hairy, said "That was astounding! You are wizards then!"

Hermione, clutching a stitch in her chest, said "I told you!"

Frodo and his faithful companion were less eager, instead looking around through the trees. The stout Hobbit turned to Frodo "Anything?"

"Nothing…"

The shortest Hobbit looked around at all the terrified, confused faces and said "What is going on?"

His companion said "That black rider was looking for something." He stepped toward Frodo, looking accusing "Or someone. Frodo?"

Frodo shook his head, looking at the others "I still don't know if I trust you…"

"And why should we trust you?" Draco demanded. Frodo's companion shushed him. "What was that thing? Was that a Dementor?" He seemed to have lost any composure he might have been striving for, and looked absolutely livid and partly terrified.

"No," said Hermione. "It's… well. I'm not sure how to explain what he is…"

"What's a Dementor?" asked the shortest of the Hobbits, who seemed quite keen on the four now.

"So you know?" Asked Frodo, turning to Hermione. "About the black riders?"

She nodded "Yes, but we shouldn't stay here. It's too open, it might come back…"

Frodo looked at his companion, the stout Hobbit, and said "What do you think Sam?"

"Well, Mister Frodo… I don't know. They are wizards, o'course… but friend or foe?" He shrugged "Maybe Master Gandalf knows 'em, and just hasn't mentioned?"

Frodo looked to his other two companions, who looked confused, but nervous. He looked back at Hermione "You said you were lost?"

She nodded. Harry looked back into the trees, and saw the black rider slowly making his way through. He shushed everyone and they all ducked to the ground, Draco moving so quickly he nearly hit his head on a stone. They waited, watching in trepidation as the rider slowly passed through, looking around, before digging in his heels and forcing the horse into a slow trot.

When the sounds of hooves faded away Harry looked at Frodo and said. "I don't know what's going on, but we need help…"

Frodo peered at them a moment and said very quietly "Sam and I are making our way out of The Shire. We're bound for Bree to meet a friend, Gandalf the Grey. He will tell us if you are friend or foe, and may be able to help you."

The other two Hobbits looked at each other, and then the slightly taller one turned and said "Quickest way from here would be Buckleberry Ferry. Follow me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** I'm a filthy lying liar who lies. I promised this chapter Monday, and here it is Friday… My only excuse is that classes started this week and I got swamped with homework, reading assignments and transfer applications. But here's the chapter now. Hopefully that will help my lovely fan base in forgiving me for my lying liarness.

Please let me know how my characterizations are. I seem to be struggling to keep Tolkien's in proper character. And no, I'm not happy with the ending, thank you for asking.

**Chapter 5: The Prancing Pony**

The two groups kept their distance from one another as they traveled, keeping any conversation light, overly polite and very private. Well, Frodo and Sam did. Their companions, named Merry and Pippin, were absolutely astounded by their magic, something they delighted in and didn't get to see often. From what Harry could tell, Hobbiton was a more cheerful version of Privet Drive: safe, quiet and normal. Unusual activities and strangers were the subjects of gossip and they had little patience for anyone or anything they considered unusual. They were decent, hard working people who liked a quiet life, and there was nothing wrong with that in Harry's opinion. In fact, if he had any say, he probably would've chosen a life like that. The only problem with it was that the hobbits were a bit… sheltered.

Merry and Pippin were determined to see every spell in the group's arsenal, whether they were safe, unsafe, existant or non. ("Can you turn Merry into a toad?" "Can you turn Pippin into a rat? Oh wait…" "Hey now!") They'd attached themselves to Hermione, who had shown them a few small spells in an effort to keep them quiet while they snuck through the woods towards Brandywine, closely following Merry's lead. This, however, only exasperated the situation, and they kept cheering for more.

Finally Malfoy, who hadn't said very much since their arrival, gritted out "I thought we were supposed to be _quiet_?" Harry had never seen Malfoy this agitated, a vein was throbbing in his temple and his face was a dark shade of pink. It was rather amusing.

Pippin waved a hand "Certainly, but one more trick won't hurt, will it Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled "Just Hermione, Pippin." Pippin beamed.

Harry thought he heard Sam mutter something about agreeing with Malfoy, but the sound of water distracted him. "How close are we?" He murmured.

"Just there." Merry replied. He glanced around, back towards the road and through the trees. "I think it's safe, so long as we are quiet." He bowed low to Hermione "Ladies first."

Hermione made to step forward but Malfoy shoved past "Calling Granger a lady is like calling a troll a vision of beauty." He grumbled.

Pippin and Merry looked affronted, but Sam interrupted "Let's not speak of such things, eh Mister Malfoy. Wouldn't want to bring bad luck on our heads would we?"

They all moved forward after Malfoy, who had found a long, low raft with just room enough for all of them tied to a dock "Well? Let's get going!"

"Just a moment, we don't know who that belongs to!" Pippin scolded. "It could be a fisherman's only boat!"

Malfoy sneered "Or it could be a dinky old, abandoned raft." He carefully stepped aboard and grabbed a paddle. When he looked back up to urge them forward his eyes suddenly grew round and his face went chalky white. He swallowed hard and frantically went to push the raft away from the dock, making terrified squeaking noises and looking fearfully behind them.

The group turned and there behind them, waiting like a quiet nightmare, was the black rider. The horses ears were perked forward, its roiling black eyes fixed on them, and the rider sat still as a statue, watching. All at once the group turned and surged at the raft, tripping frantically over one another in their haste to get away. With great leaps and bounds they clambered onto the boat, shoving Malfoy out of the way to get the oars and paddle. The Hobbits leapt aboard one by one, Frodo in the rear, the black rider just behind him.

Harry held his hand out and grabbed Frodo just as he landed on the raft, pulling him on before he could fall back into the water. The rider skid to a stop at the end of the pier, and gazed after them, his horse stomping. A moment later an unearthly wail, like a death cry, filled the air and chilled Harry right down to his bones. Malfoy had dropped onto the raft and started rowing with his hands, plunging his whole arm into the water to speed their escape while Ron and Harry tried to push off with their oars. Hermione had her wand leveled at the rider, her hand shaking, her face pale, but determined.

The rider shrieked and Hermione bellowed "_Expulso!_"

The blast rocked the raft as it shot forward away from the dock, the force starting a small tidal wave that carried them away from the rider. Everyone toppled over in a large heap of flailing limbs and Draco had slipped right off the edge and into the water, barely clinging to the raft as it surged away. Sam and Merry heaved him back onto the raft, and everyone looked back to find the rider. Dust filled the air, but from what they could see the dock had been completely destroyed. Splinters of wood lay in small piles of debris, and the rider was nowhere to be seen.

A moment of silence passed as Harry and Ron paddled, trying to put distance between them, but when they glanced back they found the rider again. As the dust cleared he stepped forward to the edge of the water, watching his quarry moving steadily away. His horse was lying on its side a few yards behind, shakily trying to rise to its hooves. The rider stood there quietly, waiting for his horse to rise watching the raft go farther and farther away, and the group watched him until he was swallowed by the encroaching darkness.

Hermione lowered her wand and shoved it away in her robes "How far is Bree from here?" She asked shakily.

Merry stared at her a moment in awe, then said "Not far now. Twenty miles to the nearest crossing, then along the road a ways…"

Pippin piped up "So long as we avoid one of Merry's shortcuts it shouldn't take long."

Pippin was right. It only took a half hour or so to reach Bree, where they were greeted by the sight of a high hedge that ran around the perimeter of the town and a gate set into it. When they approached they gatekeeper leapt to his feet and hoisted his lantern so he could better look at them.

"Where do you come from and what do you want?" He demanded.

Frodo stepped forward "We're making for the inn here. We're journeying east and can go no further in the dark."

"Hobbits," said the gatekeeper, peering suspiciously at them "From the Shire by their talk," he said more to himself. He looked up at Harry, then Hermione, and finally Draco and Ron, whom he stared at a moment "And you? What business brings you four to Bree? Awfully young to be traveling alone aren't you?"

Harry blinked "Er…"

Hermione stepped forward "We're heading eastwards ourselves sir," she started "but got separated from our party. We took up with… them, when we ran into each other."

The gatekeeper didn't miss a trick and immediately asked "Where you headed, lass?"

Hermione stuttered, but Draco rolled his eyes and stepped forward. His hand flashed into his robes and drew out three Galleons and shoved them into the gatekeeper's hands "Wherever we want." He said firmly. "Now open the gate."

The gatekeeper stared at the gold in his hands a moment, then wide eyed at Draco before a kind of curtain slid down over his eyes. It seemed to Harry he was very used to pretending not to see and hear things he ought not, but that didn't stop Harry from worrying. Malfoy flashing money about that like might get them unwanted attention.

The gatekeeper ushered them through "You'll pardon my wondering what business brings you east of Bree." He said "What be your names, if I might ask?"

Frodo stepped forward before Draco could toss more money at the man and said "Our names and business are our own, and this hardly seems the place to discuss them."

"No doubt," said the gatekeeper easily "but it's my business to ask questions of strangers after nightfall." He locked the gate behind them "Can't be too careful can you? There's strange folk about." He pointed down the lane "_The Prancing Pony_ is just down the lane there. You'll find you aren't the only guests. Perhaps your party is there waiting for you lass." He inclined his head as they thanked him and turned away, making their way down the lane towards the inn.

_The Prancing Pony _was a three storied building, not unlike _The Leaky Cauldron_ back in London. Dark and quiet, but clean with a homey feeling to it. Not unfriendly, but not particularly welcoming either. They pressed inside and found themselves greeted by all sorts: other men, tall broad and all dark haired, which made Draco stand out like a sore thumb, more hobbits, all with friendly round faces, and some stockier men with very long beards, shorter than the men but slightly taller than the hobbits. They waved back to those greeting them, and made forward to the bartender, a short, round man with a red face.

"Can we-?" Frodo started, but the man bustled out of sight with a cry of "Half a moment!"

When he returned, still looking annoyed, he said to Frodo "Good evening little masters, young masters, and miss." He smiled genially at Hermione "What may you be wanting then?"

"Beds for four… er, eight, if you please. Are you Butterbur?"

"Barliman Butterbur at your service." He suddenly snapped his fingers, as if trying to remember something "Hobbits! That reminds me of something… Might I have your names, sir?"

"Mr. Took, Mr. Brandybuck, and this is Sam Gamgee. My name is Underhill, and our companions are Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy."

"Draco? Odd name eh?" When Draco stepped forward to say something Butterbur immediately said "No offense, lad, no offense. Just ain't common to name a child for a dragon is all. Least not in these parts."

"I'll have you know I was named after the conste-!"

"It's a family name." Hermione said quickly "His father was named Draco, and his father, and so on. Not sure how far it goes back, sir."

"Still a weird name though," Ron muttered, earning a very angry glower from Draco, but Butterbur wasn't listening anymore. He was staring at the ceiling, looking all the world as though he was desperately trying to think of something.

"Now what was I-?" He sighed, annoyed "Been run off my feet tonight, I have. Don't usually get so many travelers in at a time. There's that party from Greenway, which was odd enough, then a party of dwarves wanders in, heading west." He grimaced at Harry "I'm not so sure that I got room enough for you four. Plenty of Hobbit rooms though, if you were of the mind."

Harry nodded "Yeah, that'll do. We don't intend to be here long."

Butterbur's eyebrows rose, and Harry internally winced at his mistake "Oh? Where are you four headed then?"

"East." Hermione said "We were separated from our party."

"You headed to Combe or Archet?"

"Combe." Said Hermione the same time Harry said "Archet."

Butterbur's eyebrows went up further and Draco quickly stepped in "Our party was separating later down the road, but this dolt," he elbowed Ron "got the four of us cut off from the main group."

Butterbur didn't look convinced, but he didn't press any further, and instead led them off to their rooms. "It might be a tight fit for you, lad, but you'll be out of the weather for the night." He said, looking up at Ron "If you all were of the mind, the company would be very glad to welcome you. Perhaps they'd know where the rest of your group was, young masters and miss. But if you'd prefer to sup alone and be off to bed, as you please. Ring the bell, if you need anything. Old Nob will be along to help!" And off he swept.

He'd left them in a low, well lit and comfortable parlor with a warm fire. Two open doors across from the fire showed rooms with four, small beds and a wash basin in each, with large round windows peering to a garden behind the inn. The eight of them stood around awkwardly for a moment before Draco threw himself down into a chair before the fire with an annoyed sigh.

"Where's the Gandalf bloke you four are looking for? I'd like to be back home before breakfast. The sooner I can write to my father the better. He'll have Dumbledore sacked for this for sure."

Hermione immediately moved in front of him, hands on her hips "Malfoy, do you honestly think he'd have let this happen?"

"Let? No, but the old fool hasn't got the sense to keep it from happening!"

Ron started forward but Harry caught him "We don't even know what's happened Malfoy, and if anyone's getting us home it's Dumbledore!"

Sam stepped forward "I don't know who this Dumbledore fellow is, and I'm still not sure I trust you, but we ain't seen Gandalf, and he's as good as any for getting you all back where you belong."

Frodo peered out into the common room "Dinner's being served." He glanced at Harry "I'm sure you and your friends are hungry. Why don't you all join us? We can ask Barliman about Gandalf and get some food in our bellies."

"You think that oaf will recognize him?" Draco started, rising again.

Frodo bristled, but said "There are few who don't, in these parts."

They followed Frodo out into the common room, where they were met with waves and smiles; Hermione in particular got a few winks and grins, and she was careful to seat herself between Harry and Ron. Barliman brought out hot soup, and cold meats, a fresh loaf of bread and homemade butter, and a blackberry tart that had Ron drooling in seconds.

"Would you prefer something sweeter, miss?" He asked Hermione as he set down tankards of beer in front of the others. "I've got a softer brew in back; this can put hair of the chests of elves."

Hermione nodded and a moment later he came back and set down another tankard in front of her, this time a very familiar golden color. She took a sip and her eyes got wide. "It's my own brew;" Barliman said "Concocted it myself."

"Butterbeer." Hermione muttered, grinning.

"What's that? Butterbeer?" There was a moment of tension before Barliman grinned "Smart lady this! Naming it for me! Been trying to come up with something for weeks!" and he bustled off before Frodo could get his attention to ask him about Gandalf.

Almost immediately the group was surrounded by curious strangers, grinning and asking questions. Initially harmless enough ("What's your name?" "You're how old lass? You look younger…") the questions soon got harder and harder to answer: Where were they headed? Never heard of a group traveling that way and we came from the same direction. What're your family names again? Never heard of any Malfoy… odd name though. Plenty of Grangers about though. Dime a dozen they are. Where'd you say you were from? Clearly not interested in general answers, they wanted specifics, down to house location in Hermione's case, but she avoided answering it when, in a brilliant stroke of genius, Ron said she was moving to live with another relative, claiming she was needed to take care of a baby whose mother had just died. The hobbits had an easier time, know locations and towns around the area, but Harry had feared they'd been caught when a group of hobbits called Underhill had come over. Fortunately, rather than assume an imposter, they couldn't imagine sharing a name without being related and took Frodo in as being a long lost cousin.

It seemed the entire inn wanted to know about the group, and while Draco had already committed their lie to memory, and had even improved it based on things he overheard, Harry, Hermione and Ron could only stumble along in conversations, hoping the others would get disinterested. Frodo would jump in to save them from the occasional probing question, but it was clear the less they said, the more everyone wanted to know and that they wouldn't get out of answering some of these questions if the Bree-folk had anything to say about it.

The only person who wasn't interested in them was a tall, lanky fellow sitting in the back. With the hood of his traveling cloak thrown over his face, Harry couldn't see much of him, but there was an air of oddness to him. Lanky and lean, he looked hungry and his clothes were travel worn and run through. Before Harry could get too good a look at him though, or think to ask anyone who he might be, Frodo had finally managed to catch Butterbur.

"We're supposed to meet a friend here, Gandalf the Grey, have you seen him?" Frodo asked quickly.

Butterbur stopped and thought a moment "Gandalf… Gandalf? Oh! Yes, an elderly chap. Big gray beard, pointed hat… ain't seen him for six months." He said, before walking off again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** This is a little later than I intended, but it's here, and I suppose that's what matters. I tried to make it a bit longer than my usual, but it didn't work out too well. Either way I hope you enjoy.

And no, I don't like the ending, thank you for asking.

**Chapter 6: Strider**

With pale faces and dismayed expressions the hobbits immediately huddled together to talk privately, clearly hoping they wouldn't be overheard. Harry, sitting right next to Merry, couldn't really help but overhear, but tried to pretend not to while Ron, Draco and Hermione leaned in together to discuss their options.

"So," Sam murmured "what do we do now?"

Frodo looked panicked "We cannot continue on without him…"

"Well, we certainly cannot wait here forever." Merry said.

Pippin glanced at Draco, who he was sitting next to, and gently nudged his arm. Draco quirked an eyebrow "Er, yes?"

"What will you do now?"

Draco looked at Hermione, then Ron, both of whom shrugged. Harry spoke up "We're in about the same situation as you are; we're sort of stuck too…"

"We should stay together then, it's safer that way."

Sam frowned "Now Pippin, they clearly have business of their own to be getting along with. We don't want to waylay them."

"Now, be reasonable Sam." Merry said "They're in just as much trouble as we are. Maybe we can help each other."

"But they're strangers, Merry," Sam whispered "claiming to be wizards-"

"You've had more than enough proof of that." Draco said coldly.

"Aye, we have. But we don't know if you and your friends are friends to us," Sam pointed out "And I doubt you could help Mister Frodo and I find our way-"

"Where's Frodo?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Everyone looked around, towards the bar where Barliman was arguing with someone, and over at the fireplace where a Dwarf was adding a log to the cheerfully crackling fire. Frodo was nowhere to be seen, and Sam was stating to panic when Ron spotted him across the room, talking to the lanky stranger Harry had noticed earlier. Spotting them, Sam got up to say something but Pippin pulled him back down.

"Oh Sam, they're only talking. No harm in that!" Pippin smiled cheerfully, suddenly less concerned. "Now that it's decided our new friends will join us on our way-"

"We've decided nothing Peregrin Took!" Sam cried.

"-I am going to and get myself another pint." He got up and meandered over to the bar, waving and smiling at everyone, and being cheerfully welcomed into a group of men already sitting at the bar and drinking.

Sam shook his head "There's a recipe for disaster if I ever saw one."

Hermione leaned in "Where did you say you were heading, Sam?"

"We didn't, miss." Sam replied "And I'd like to keep it that way, if you don't mind."

Hermione, nudging Harry out of her way, scooted closer to lean in to speak with Sam "Sam, we aren't spies. You must trust us; we're in dreadful trouble and need help."

He frowned "That'd be the sort of thing a spy would say miss. And that ain't for me to judge. Master Gandalf would know for sure."

"Well," Draco started "Gandalf isn't here, is he? So what's your plan now, exactly?"

Sam narrowed his eyes "None of your concern, so mind your own."

"Now Sam-" started Merry.

"Look, we aren't spies." Harry said, careful to keep his voice low. The last thing they needed was someone overhearing them and asking more questions. "What will it take to convince you?"

"Master Gandalf's word."

Harry and Draco bother prepared to reply, when they heard a loud yelp, the sound of breaking pottery and cries of dismay from the rest of the bar. Looking around they found a wide circle being formed not only around an empty space on the floor, but Pippin and themselves as well. Rather than being the new favorites of the inn, they were suddenly receiving very dark and suspicious looks from everyone. Someone yelled for Barliman, who came trotting out from the back looking frazzled.

"What's all this? What's all this?" He cried.

'That Half-ling," someone cried "Underhill! He's vanished!"

Sam's round face went pale and he looked to Pippin, who sat still as a statue in his seat, looking dumbstruck. Merry's mouth fell open and Hermione muttered "Oh no," under her breath.

"Mr. Underhill is free to go wherever he likes so long as he pays in the morning." Barliman said, picking up pieces of broken crockery.

"You've missed my meanin'! He hasn't stepped out; he vanished right out of thin air!"

"You must be mistaken. There's Mr. Took, he hasn't vanished." Barliman said.

Someone turned to their table and motioned violently at Draco "Well? What have you got to say for yourselves?"

Draco blinked placidly, shrugged at Hermione and then said "Well, we've had it. We're wizards, plain and simple." There was a heavy pause, and then he said "I can pull a rabbit out of your hat if you would like. Or you could ask Mr. Underhill all about it. He's right there, can't you see?"

Frodo stepped forward and smiled "Yes, he's magical, we all are! And I am his disappearing Hobbit!"

Somehow, some inexplicable way, it worked. Whether it was Draco's natural ability to lie and sound sarcastic with little effort or Frodo's mischievous smile, everyone in the inn calmed down, thinking it all some elaborate joke. Some laughed, amused at what they thought was just some entertainment for the evening, but many more turned and walked out with annoyed grumbles and curses. But it had worked and Harry could breathe a sigh of relief.

"Malfoy," he said as Draco turned back "I never thought I'd say this, but that was brilliant."

Hermione pursed her lips "And what if you're clever trick hadn't worked?" She asked haughtily.

Draco opened his mouth to reply but Ron cut him off "But it did Hermione, so let's just be grateful they've left us alone."

"_Now_ where did Frodo-?" Merry started, and then stood up, seeing something. His mouth dropped open and everyone followed his gaze to find Frodo being quietly dragged out of the room by Strider, looking back desperately for help.

Sam and Merry leapt up after him, followed by Pippin. Extricating himself from his seat, Harry dashed off after them, followed by Ron, Hermione and bringing up the rear a grumbling Draco. Bursting into the room behind the hobbits, the man drew his sword as they entered, and in a swift motion Harry drew his wand and blasted it out of his hand.

The man lifted his hands in a gesture of peace and said quietly "That is a powerful weapon you have, and indeed I am bested, but mean the hobbit and yourselves no harm."

Frodo darted out from behind him and Harry stepped forward. "Who are you? Why are you after Frodo?"

"They call me Strider, and I am no enemy to Mr. Underhill." He glanced at the open door, and then grimaced. "I hope that we all may speak in private…I will tell you everything I can."

Harry glanced at Draco, who shut the door then cast a muffling charm to keep anyone from hearing them. Strider pulled back his hood, revealing a very tired, drawn face with gray eyes and dark hair. He reminded Harry vaguely of Sirius, with his gaunt features and tired eyes. He might have been handsome once, this Strider. The resemblance, the pang of familiarity in such an unfamiliar place made Harry want to trust this man.

"I know these riders that chase him, the Nine." Strider said, careful to keep his hands in full view "The Nazgul. And I know what they chase him for. Do you, young Istari?"

"The Ring." Hermione said quietly.

The hobbits moved away, standing in the corner where they could see the wizards and Strider. "See." Sam muttered "We shouldn't have brought them this far, Mr. Frodo, we shouldn't have trusted them. They've led us right into a trap."

Draco sighed dramatically "Merlin's beard, we've already told you we aren't _spies_! This isn't a trap! We don't even know this man!"

"Then how do you know about The Ring?"

Strider shushed them, "Do not speak so lightly, that is no trinket you carry, and you can no longer wait for the wizard."

Frodo perked up "What do you-?"

"I do not know what keeps Gandalf, but they're coming, and to wait for him would spell doom." Strider glanced at Harry, then his sword, and when Harry nodded he retrieved it and sheathed it. "I am curious though, about your companions. Who are these four-?" A knock at the door silenced him.

Strider stepped back into the shadows, melting away as Hermione turned and answered the door. Butterbur stood there, wringing his hands and looking very annoyed with himself. When he saw Frodo he stepped into the parlor and inclined his head. "I've come to bid you all a goodnight." He hesitated, then moved a step towards Frodo while Draco sighed and sat down in front of the fire, rubbing his eyes "It's like this, you see… if I've done any harm, I'm mightily sorry, but I've only just remembered." He reached into his vest and pulled out a crumbled envelope. "You see, I was asked to look out for four hobbits, one by the name of Baggins."

"What has that got to do with us?" Frodo asked.

Barliman nodded "I understand, I won't reveal you, but I was told this hobbit would be going by the name of Underhill, and was given a description that fits you well enough. It was Gandalf that gave me the description, Gandalf the Wizard? I'm afraid I didn't realize it was you until just a moment ago… he didn't warn me about any other companions." He eyed the wizards suspiciously.

"We met them on the road…"

"Ah, so that was true enough. Anyways, Gandalf comes in about six months ago and asks me a favor. Busy as I was, I forgot all about it until just now and I hope I haven't done you any harm-?"

"Oh, for the love of- out with it man!" Draco cried, impatient "What was the bloody favor?"

Barliman jumped, startled and then said very hurriedly "I was asked to send this message to The Shire, but I could find no one to take the message the next day, nor the day after and before long it had fallen by the wayside." He handed the letter to Frodo, "I'll leave you to it, but please let me know if I can help in any way." With an awkward little bow he backed out of the room and Hermione shut and locked the door, recasting the muffling jinx.

Everyone waited while Frodo read the letter, and then glanced up at Strider. "Well, this proves who you are then, at least, and that is a lucky thing, though," he turned to the others "I am still not so sure about you four."

Strider moved into the firelight and sat, crossing his long legs at the ankles. "I am curious about you as well… you are no dark spies, so far as I can tell, though times change and Sauron may yet still have his tricks." He gave Draco a long look "You seem as though you have the blood of the fair folk in you lad, as does your tall friend." He nodded at Ron "Men do not grow so tall, that is a trait of the elves. What is your story?"

Hermione stepped forward and sat down as well "It's not one you're likely to believe. All I'm willing to say is that we are in desperate need for help."

Strider frowned "What troubles you?"

She sighed "We're… lost. We're very far from home, and we need help getting back."

Strider leaned forward "That is not the whole story, lady."

Harry stepped forward "It's a very long story, a very… well…"

"Confusing one." Ron chipped in "We aren't even sure what's happened."

"And it's not one we'd like to share with too many people." Draco said stiffly.

Strider gazed at him for a moment, then looked to the hobbits, who were settling in chairs and couches around the fire, "I intend to guide the hobbits to Rivendell, as I have been asked by Gandalf, and I ask that you join us, at least that far. Elrond Halfelven is very wise, and may be able to aide you… though I am not sure whether to trust you yet, as you fail to give me your names…"

Hermione flushed "Oh, right, I'm Hermione Granger; this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy."

Strider glanced at Draco "To be named for a dragon, some say it is a great honor, but most others would call it a curse and bad luck. I would not go by that name when so few trust you…"

Draco sneered "And what would you have them call me then?"

Strider thought about it a moment then murmured "Locien. It is the closest elf-name I can think to yours and carries the meaning 'dragon'. If it doesn't insult you, I would prefer you travel by that name until we reach Rivendell."

Draco blinked. "Locien… sounds like my father's name. That's not so bad, I suppose, if it keeps me from getting clobbered."

Ron sighed "If it was anything else, he would have thrown a right tiff over it, eh?" Harry nodded in agreement.

"Your names," Strider said "are unusual here. Granger not so much, but Hermione? Forgive me lady but it is uncommon. You will not tell me where you come from? Where your homes are? How you came to be here?"

Hermione shook her head "I really am very sorry, but we're not even sure how we got here, and telling you what happened…" she glanced at the hobbits. "The truth would only make you trust us less, and we need your help."

Strider also looked at the hobbits and nodded. "I see. Well, there is nothing more we can do tonight. You will come with us to speak with Elrond; we leave at first light. Try to find rest." He settled down in his seat, closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep in a few moments. After a while everyone else meandered off to bed, while Hermione cast a few protective charms on their rooms to keep anyone from seeing inside or hearing them.

Harry didn't sleep well. Hobbit beds weren't uncomfortable, but small, and he'd been forced to curl up in the fetal position to try and get some sleep. He'd slept in cramped positions before, for most of his life in fact, but he always knew where he was. Now he wasn't sure at all. Hermione had her theory, but wasn't sharing and he and Ron had discussed it on the way into Bree. The names were so familiar, scribbled in the notes Hermione had given them before, people from Middle Earth, the Third Age. But it wasn't possible they'd been thrown back in time, it just wasn't. It couldn't be. They must have hit their heads, or fallen asleep in The Room of Requirement and this was all one big, confusing dream.

But somehow Harry didn't think so.

Strider came in and roused them early in the morning, before the sun had even come up. Harry pulled himself stiffly from bed, cracking his bones and popping joints as he went, and Strider smiled sympathetically. "Quietly now, I wish to speak with your four before the hobbits return from breakfast. I sent them off just now, we have some time."

Harry pulled himself stiffly from bed while Ron tumbled unceremoniously to the floor while Draco pulled himself stiffly to his feet, cracking his spine. "That," he said "was the worst night's sleep I have ever had." His hair was a mess of spiky pieces that stuck up in several different directions, giving him the appearance of a very annoyed cockatoo.

Harry popped his neck "C'mon. Strider wants to speak to us."

"I hope he's not going to ask any more questions…" Hermione mumbled, face half covered by her hair.

Draco smirked, "Nice hair, Granger. Going for the trollish look?"

"You're one to talk." Hermione shot back "At least I don't look like a parrot." She marched out of the room, followed by Ron and Harry, as Draco gently touched his hair and immediately set about trying to fix it.

Aragorn was seated in front of the fireplace again, though the fire had burned down to embers. He was eating an apple, and invited everyone to sit. "With the hobbits at breakfast, I thought now the best time to discuss your situation."

Hermione sat down with a sigh "I was afraid you were going to ask."

Strider frowned "If I am to trust you, I must know the full story, however outrageous it may be."

"You aren't going to believe us, I guarantee it." Ron said, sitting next to Hermione.

Draco came into the room; hair mostly flattened "You'll probably think us all mental."

Strider shook his head "I need to know the truth."

Harry shrugged "He asked for it."

Hermione nodded. "Alright then, but we did warn you."

Strider settled back into his seat, and they told him everything. It was a long story, having to explain background information, such as what Hogwarts was, the war, what Draco's being a prefect meant. Strider didn't interrupt except to ask a few questions, which generally took the four of them to answer. They'd intended to only tell him about what happened in the Room of Requirement, but before they knew what had happened, they'd shared most of their adventures with him, explained the war, everything about Voldemort and Harry's parents, all in order to better explain what they'd been doing while they were in the Room of Requirement. By silent agreement though, no one mentioned Harry's blossoming obsession with Draco, or their suspicion that he was somehow attached to the Death Eaters through his father, if not one already. They were in a world with its own dark lord and brewing war, they didn't need to attach Draco to that and potentially get him killed. Harry didn't like Draco, but he didn't want him dead. When they finished Strider sat quietly, absorbing everything he'd heard. The sun had come up, and they could hear other guests starting to stir. They needed to leave soon, and the wizards hadn't even eaten yet.

Finally, Strider spoke "That is truly a remarkable tale…" he frowned.

"Told you you'd think we were crazy."

Strider smiled "No, Ron, I do not. I think, perhaps, you have been caught in a trap of the Dark Lord's making. Your description matches, and this sort of trickery is what he revels in… but there is no way for me to be certain. For now, we will travel to Imladris, and you will see Elrond. He will know better than I what has befallen you four."

Harry quirked and eyebrow "What's Imladris?"

"Another name for Rivendell, Harry, the Sindarin word."

"And Sindarin is…?" Ron asked.

"One of the languages of the elves. You truly are far from home if you do not know these things… perhaps you are from the east? Nay, there is no place such as Hogwarts in the east." He shook his head "It would be best for you to see Master Elrond. He will guide you." Strider rose to his feet "And we must begin our journey. Have breakfast, but be prepared to leave soon. We have a long road ahead of us." Moving to the door he added "And say nothing of this to the hobbits. They have enough to fear without being concerned over their traveling companions as well. Sam is already suspicious of you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** This would have been published about two weeks ago, but when I was editing it last week the electricity went, and then went two more times in the past week while I was writing this, meaning I lost most of my edits and work. Basically what I did was hurriedly finish the last few chapters and then saved and posted, as I will also do with my other chapters. So please pardon the many typos that I have inevitably missed.

I apologize for the wait, but maybe I can make it up to you guys. I've been playing a lot of Skyrim lately, and have been inspired to write by the game, but none of the ideas are linked together in a cohesive plot. I was wondering if anyone would be interested in a one-shot series from the point of view of my character? Let me know if you're interested in a review.

Please enjoy the chapter; I know it was a long time coming.

**Chapter 7: Weathertop**

Strider rushed the wizards through breakfast, giving them only a few minutes to scarf down their toast and juice before they left. They were already behind, as the sun had risen, and the other guests in the inn were beginning to file down for breakfast, and Strider still wanted to buy traveling cloaks and some supplies before leaving. They also ended up with a round-bellied pony to carry their equipment, a sad looking beast of burden Sam christened Bill and volunteered to be the caregiver to. By the time Bill was loaded and they were on the road, the sun was already high in the sky and Strider was looking terse and irritated.

"The road to Rivendell is a long journey, nearly a month's travel on foot through the wilds." He said, peering down at a paper map in his hands Barliman had given them as a parting gift of apology. "Bah!" He folded it and moved as if to toss it away "I know my way well enough."

"Well," Hermione said "Could I have it then? To see where we are…"

He nodded and handed her the paper without further comment, leading them along the road and away from Bree as the little village shrunk in the increasing distance. Hermione hung onto Bill's pack as they walked, examining the map and letting the horse steer her. Their journey was quiet, but not uncomfortably so, and Harry stayed close to Strider, who would occasionally point out tracks in the grass or show Harry how to find east by the sun's position. Draco, bringing up the rear with Merry and Pippin, looked nothing short of agitated and complained most of the way, despite the hobbits attempts to cheer him up. Strider led them off the road eventually, when Bree was just a dot in the distance, and into the wilds where the path was harder to find. There was much stumbling and slipping, and Strider had little intention of stopping, even for a meal, which dismayed Merry and Pippin, who'd begun to unpack when he paused to get his bearings.

"Gentleman, we do not stop 'till nightfall." He called to them. Harry turned and found Draco had also begun to unpack, looking very annoyed.

"Well, what about breakfast?" Pippin asked.

Strider frowned "Did you not eat at The Prancing Pony?"

"Oh yes, and it was a lovely meal," Merry chimed in "but we meant second breakfast."

Ron glanced up "You have second breakfast?"

"Oh yes," Pippin said, "there's breakfast and second breakfast, then elevensies."

Sam piped up, repacking his gear on Bill's back "Then luncheon and afternoon tea."

"Then dinner and supper." Merry finished, patting his belly.

Ron grinned as if this was the most wonderful idea he had ever heard, but Hermione and Harry gazed at the hobbits in astonishment. "How do you manage to eat all that?"

"A lifetime of training, Miss Hermione." Frodo said, stepping forward. "A day is not complete without six meals, at least."

Strider shook his head then turned and moved away, leaving the others to hurriedly repack and scramble after him. A moment later an apple came flying out of midair and right into Merry's hands. Merry passed it along to Pippin with a genial smile, and then moved after Strider. Pippin meant to follow, but stumbled as another apple soared through the air and struck him in the chest. As Pippin looked skyward with a puzzled expression on his face Draco scooped up the apple, cleaned it on his cloak and bit into it with relish, trotting after the others to catch up.

The morning passed into afternoon, which moved into evening, hours bleeding together as calluses turned to blisters, and bruises and bumps became cuts and open sores. The days bled together as Strider led them through the wilderness, through craggy rocks and a marshland where they were all eaten alive by mosquitoes and other tiny biting insects. It was hard going, sleeping on rocks, going without a proper meal if Strider couldn't hunt anything down, irritably snapping at each other for the slightest offense. The topper to the whole thing was their clothes, clearly not made for cross-country travel, were falling apart. The sole of Harry's sneakers was coming off and had been haphazardly repaired with a bit of twine wrapped around the shoe to keep it on, Hermione's robes were shredded and torn around the hemline, while Ron's had been discarded a while ago, leaving him in his fraying jeans and t-shirt under the traveling cloak. Draco's clothes, while of better quality, weren't fairing much better and any mention of the tear in the back of his trousers was met with hostility and a rant on badly planned camping trips. Strider greatly enjoyed mocking the boy, but kept his jibes to the minimum, lest Draco made real his threat of hexing the older man. They were only a few weeks into their journey, and the four were more than ready to go home and forget the whole thing had ever happened.

Finally there was a reprieve in the monotony of the scraggly countryside. Strider caught sight of it first and pointed it out to Hermione in an attempt to calm her ill temper: ahead of them, a good half-hour's walk at the most, rose what looked like a jagged, small mountain in the middle of the wilderness. Upon closer inspection though, it was clear that there was a craggy, rock covered hill that gave way to stone and brick ruins that rose into the air.

Strider pointed to the jagged, ruined mass and said "That was the great Watchtower of Amon Sul, Hermione. Weathertop in the common speech. It was once a great fortress for the old kingdom, but has since fallen into disrepair. We should find the sign of Gandalf near here, as he told me, but I am not sure where. Come, let us make camp and rest for the night. The broken walls of the fortress will keep us from being seen from the road."

Hermione, relieved at having a more sheltered place to sleep, kept close to Strider and Harry as they maneuvered their way through the rocks towards Weathertop, which looked more and more decrepit the closer they got. Sam and Ron hung towards the rear, coaxing Bill through the narrow crags and slowing progress, but they did manage to make their way through and to the base of the hillock that housed Weathertop. It had taken double the time, but they were finally allowed to make camp somewhere more comfortable. The instant Draco got the chance, he unfolded his blankets, tossed his pack to the crowd and threw himself on them, rolling with his back to the group and going to sleep as quickly as possible.

"Wake him when you eat, but do not start a fire. It will give away our position." Strider told them, passing out more apples. Draco's arm extended and Strider smirked, dropping one into the wizard's hand. Draco retracted his arm without a word, but the group could hear him munching on the fruit.

"How else are we to cook a proper meal?" Pippin demanded. "Apples are fine for a moment, but I can't tighten my belt much more."

Hermione drew her wand, aimed it at a pile of rocks the hobbits had prepared for their cooking fire, and a shot of her blue fire shot out and lit the kindling. "Look, these won't use up any kindling." She said, carefully scooping up the flames with her hand "And if you're careful you can move them without burning yourself."

Strider gazed uneasily at the blue fire burning in her hands, but the hobbits were absolutely ecstatic about them and gathered around to examine them more closely. Sam carefully took them from Hermione and set them back in the center of the stones, where he set to work cooking a proper meal, while the others pulled out bits of fruit and vegetables to make a stew with.

"They're easier to extinguish than non-magical flames." Hermione explained "But they're waterproof."

The hobbits looked up at this "Waterproof flames?" Merry exclaimed "What an unusual idea…"

Hermione nodded eagerly and began to explain to her new audience why they were waterproof and that when they extinguished a non-magical fire they were really just drenching the fuel source so the fire couldn't feed itself properly. She was only just starting to get into the technicalities of the whole thing when Strider gently prodded her in the shoulder and asked her and Harry to help him with something.

"Ronald, stay here with the hobbits and young Mr. Malfoy. Extinguish the flames when they've finished cooking. Harry, Hermione, come with me."

The two followed after Strider as he moved out into the darkness and away from the quiet cheeriness of the camp. Ron nodded to Harry as they left, and Harry trotted after Hermione and Strider as they melted into the darkness. Strider told them not to light their wands, and to stay close and quiet. They walked for a few minutes, slowing beginning to circle around Weathertop, which was a looming, lumpy mass in the falling darkness. Strider moved slowly, gazing at the ground, searching for something, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, searching for some mark in the dirt and rocks.

"Look for the mark of Gandalf. It is an elf rune, like this-" he picked up a stick and scratched the mark into the dirt- "and should be engraved on a stone. If you use your wand light, keep it low. There are many eyes in the wilds."

Hermione and Harry lit their wands tips and quietly searched the ground, looking for the unusual mark. Strider kept casting nervous looks at their wands, and after a few moments of silence said "Your magic is unlike anything I have seen. It is no wonder the shire-lings did not trust you for wizards. You are young, and –forgive me lady, but I know no other ladies that practice magic."

"I thought you said the elves practice magic." Harry said.

"The elves magic is different from wizards… and yours is different to both. They do not know the word magic; their power comes from the natural world, from the earth and the trees and stars." He glanced upward towards the millions of stars now winking at them from the inky blue night sky "From Elbereth."

"Elbereth? Is that an elvish word?"

"The name of one of the Valar, the first elves. She is The Queen of the Stars, and the most beautiful of any woman, elf or human." At Harry's look, Strider frowned "You have no elves in your world, Harry?"

"Well… we do but they're different, I think…" At Strider's own confused expression Harry sighed and hesitantly explained "Elves in our world are called House Elves and are short… odd looking creatures that-"

Hermione immediately leapt into a complete diatribe about House Elves and their rights, cutting Harry off mid-sentence and ranting a full explanation about everything she'd learned about them. Their serving wizards completely floored Strider, who, after checking the ground for Gandalf's sign, sat to listen more intently about House Elves. He asked endless questions about their appearance and traditions and Hermione filled him in on everything. Harry tried to share a few storied about Dobby, but Hermione would have none of it, and tersely cut him off every time he tried to speak. Harry ended up sitting next to Strider, picking at the grass and nodding or shaking his head whenever Hermione asked him a question. When her tirade came to an end Strider frowned, looking troubled.

"Elves of Middle Earth are nothing like what you have described to me. They are tall and strong, graceful people. They are known for their songs and poetry…" He frowned again, and then smiled "Perhaps it's better for you to meet them, and find out these things for yourselves." He eyed their wands again, and then shook his head "Your world is strange to me. Your clothes are unusual, not fit for travel or hunting, nor battle. And no king of Elf, Man or Dwarf would wear such things." He eyed Hermione. "You and your companions are very far from home. This is not a world for children, even if they are Istari."

"Trust me Strider," Harry said, "We can handle ourselves."

He laughed "Of that I have little doubt, but the world is perilous, as you have plainly seen, and very different from yours. If you would have the advice of a road weary wanderer, you would use caution and tell few your tale." He smiled wryly "Follow your friend, Mr. Malfoy's example: keep your tale to yourselves."

Harry frowned "I hope that's the last time anyone tells me to live by Malfoy's example."

"He is hard-headed, yes," Strider said, "and willful, stubborn and prideful, but he is no fool and will not easily be led astray." Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance, but Strider ignored it "Here now, let us continue on our search. I want Hermione to have a proper night's rest before we continue on in the morning." He rose to his feet, and offered a hand to Hermione who accepted the gesture with a grateful smile.

Harry rose to his feet as well, moving after Hermione, but after a few steps they noticed Strider wasn't following them. They paused and looked back to see the older man staring back at Weathertop, his face going gray. Harry and Hermione craned around the look and found a light winking in the distance, casting an odd blue light out into the now dark night air. Harry assumed this was merely Hermione's bluebell flames, and didn't immediately see what the problem was. Following Strider's gaze, his stomach filled with ice when he saw the silhouette's of nine cloaked men moving swiftly towards Weathertop. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth and the three of them watched, legs frozen and filled with lead, as the nine silhouettes moved forward. There was a shout from camp, Harry thought it was Draco but couldn't be certain, and then the light was extinguished, but it was too late. The Ring Wraiths had already seen and were making a swift beeline towards Weathertop, cutting through mist that had appeared almost as suddenly as the Wraiths.

"Frodo…" Strider muttered. He lurched forward and rushed back towards Weathertop, moving quickly over the open ground. "Hurry! We must save the others!"

Hermione and Harry moved after him, sliding down the slight incline in their rush to return to camp. Hermione paused, grabbed Harry and pointed. The two waited, and a moment later there was a flash of red light, then green, and afterwards a loud, bone chilling screech.

"That's Ron and Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, rushing after Strider again. "Hurry Harry, we have to help them!"

Harry paused another moment, blinking at another flash of light from Weathertop, wondering how in the name of Merlin the Ring Wraiths had already made it to the top when the thought struck him, fresh out of nowhere: maybe it wasn't the Wraiths they were fighting.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** I'm sorry guys, I promised this thing last weekend, and look! I'm a week behind. I'm sorry. I'm a lying liar, who lies. The next time I say expect an update, don't really expect it until a week later. On the upside, I held this chapter because I was doing some editing, and now it sounds much better than it did before, so at least you're getting a better chapter for the horrible wait. Mind you, I don't think the ending is any better…

Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.

**Chapter 8: Wraiths in the Night**

Draco was cold, his body ached, and the others wouldn't go to bed so he could settle in and get some sleep. They just stayed up, cooking on Granger's fire, laughing and sharing stories. Stupid stories, really, nothing at all interesting, and he had absolutely no intention of having a conversation with Weasley. Well, whatever sort of conversation could be had with Weasley's grunting and snorting. One of the hobbits laughed at something Weasley said and Draco grumbled and tried to cover his ears. Merlin he was tired. They'd only been walking a few weeks but Draco's legs felt like lead and the sunburn on his cheekbones and nose was peeling and itchy. Damn his fair-skinned parents.

He frowned, the image of his parent's tired, worried faces floating in his mind's eye. What would happen to them? There was no way he could complete his mission now… and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn't exactly known for his easy temper and ability to forgive. He was The Dark Lord after all, that name didn't exactly bring to mind the image of puppies, kittens or rainbows. A pang of worry shot through his stomach, and Draco sighed. His parents were probably dead… or worse. And he would be too if he didn't get home soon.

But…

He glanced down at his arm, carefully pulling his sleeve up to reveal The Dark Mark. Usually it was an ugly thing, undulating with magic, the sickly green and black mixing and swirling, and it was always faintly tingling, reminding Draco that The Dark Lord was keeping an eye on his progress. Now? It was an ugly tattoo, but there was no undulating magic, no shimmering colors, and no faint tingle. Any connection to The Dark Lord was either severed or so muddled that Draco couldn't be sensed. Going home would be ridiculous now that he knew he was out of range, so to speak, a completely suicidal idea. For a few moments, Draco felt true freedom, the freedom to make a choice, the freedom to do what he wanted… but then he remembered: his parents needed him, and he loved them, even if he didn't really care about anything else, he loved his family. He had to get home, if not to complete his mission, then to help his parents. There wasn't any other option.

Sighing again, he pulled his sleeve down to cover the mark and tried desperately to ignore the laughter from the Hobbits and Weasley's story. The smell of cooking meat floated over to him, and he gritted his teeth, hunger gnawing at his stomach. He'd be damned if he asked anything from Weasley. He'd just have another apple when Strider got back… Wait. Hadn't the hobbits already eaten? Before sundown?

Draco's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright "Have you all gone completely bonkers?" He shouted, just as Frodo sat to demand what they were doing.

"We're cooking supper, of course, Master Frodo." Sam answered "We've saved some for you."

"And no Malfoy," Weasley retorted scathingly "We haven't. We're hungry."

Frodo looked at Draco imploringly as the wizard rose to his feet and pointed out into the darkness "That light can be seen from the road, you blithering idiot! Every Ringwraith for twenty miles will be here any sec-"

Almost as if summoned, a high pitched, shrill screech filled the night air, and Draco whirled around to find Nine tall, hooded figures maneuvering as quickly as possible towards Weathertop. Draco let out a bellow of surprise and Frodo practically threw himself on the fire, stamping to extinguish it as Draco flicked his wand to do the same. Despite their efforts, the Wraiths had still seen them and were already making their way up the path, moving with unnatural speed towards the camp. Draco shot sparks after one, grabbed Frodo and bolted, dragging the hobbit along with him while Ron followed, herding the others along behind them.

The climb to the summit of Weathertop was steep, but Draco made it with amazing speed and agility, dragging Frodo along behind him as quickly as possible. It seemed every shadow was a Wraith, every motion out of the corner of his eye one of the Nine, and Draco shot sparks at all of them in his panic, not concerned if he hit Weasley or any of the hobbits, only with getting away.

Draco had never been around Dementors, not for an extended period of time at least. On the train during his third year one had ghosted into the compartment, but hadn't stayed long enough to cause too much damage. He knew how it felt though, the feeling of drowning, of icy water filling your chest, the absolute knowledge that you'd never ever feel happiness again. He knew they made you relive the most horrible moments of your life, but at thirteen the worst moment he'd had was getting swatted upside the head by his mother for breaking that horrible looking vase in the dining room. And really, that hadn't been so bad, as she'd really hated the thing as well, but had only kept it because grandmother had given it to her as an anniversary gift. No, he hadn't had any horrors in his past, not really, nothing a Dementor would be interested in.

Now though? The visions passing through his mind weren't memories; they weren't visions of having an evil man brand him for life, or watching his mother struggle to pull herself together while her husband rotted away in Azkaban. He saw the flashes of two pale, still faces, with gray eyes like his, and platinum white hair like his lying motionless at his feet. He saw The Dark Lord standing over their bodies, wand aimed at Draco as he laughed, cold and maniacal, preparing to take aim. He even saw Potter's body, a crumpled mass, while The Dark Lord gloated, and his Aunt Bellatrix danced and sang over the corpse…

He shot another set of sparks out into the darkness, trying to banish the visions, and wasn't surprised when Weasley's own, differently colored set of sparks whizzed nearby into the shifting darkness. The Hobbits were pale and shaking, and Draco was having trouble staying upright, dragging Frodo at his side. Weasley seized the back of his robes and shoved him forward, causing Draco to stumble and fall as the ground suddenly evened out beneath their feet. They'd reached the summit of Weathertop, but they'd also run themselves directly into a dead end, and Weasley realized it the same time Draco did: they were more then trapped, they were dead.

Another high pitched shriek cut through the night air, and Draco heaved himself to his feet and off the cracked stone beneath his feet. The group formed a circle, backs to each other, aiming wands and drawing swords to prepare for battle. A very short battle if there was any indication. Draco and Weasley might last a few minutes, but they didn't really know what they were up against, or how to fight it, and it wouldn't be long before they went down. The hobbits just weren't fighters, without him and Weasley, they were beyond dead.

A shrill shriek drew his attention to the path they'd just moved away from, and he aimed his wand, hand visibly shaking. Ron stepped in next to him, his own wand directed at the shadow moving towards them, sweat beading on his upper lip. The Wraith slipped out of the shadows like it was made of them, the darkness molded to his shape, around his shoulders and through the creases of his cloak. It drew a sword, a long, wicked looking weapon with an ash colored blade almost as long as Draco was tall.

Draco slashed his wand through the air "_Expelliarmus_!"

When the blade didn't go flying through the air, Draco knew they had a very serious problem. Whatever these things were they were either impervious to their magic, or had protective enchantments over them that kept magic from harming them. And Draco was no good at hand to hand combat, he was proud of being a wizard and damn good at magic. What would be the point of learning to fight with a sword or any other weapon for that matter?

Ron's eyes widened and he shouted "_Expecto Patronum_!" The vague shape of a terrier shot out the end of his wand and darted at the Wraith, as it would if it was a Dementor, but the Wraith waved a hand and the terrier dissipated with a yelp.

"We have a problem…" Draco muttered. What were these things that not even a Patronus, one of the most powerful spells, didn't even make it think twice?

"We have a very serious problem..." Weasley replied shakily, pointing into the darkness where two more Wraiths appeared to flank their leader. Draco glanced to the side and saw the others circling just outside his line of sight, moving in and out of the shadows like wisps. Draco supposed that's probably what they were, at least to an extent.

"_Immobulus_!" Ron shouted, and the Wraith hesitated, as if the spell had had some effect, but with a screech it pushed through, swinging its sword slowly through the air.

"_Incarcerous_!" Draco bellowed, ropes shooting out of his wand, but the sword slashed and the ropes fell away in pieces.

"_St-stupefy_!" Ron stuttered, and the Wraith screeched again, clearly annoyed and drawing closer.

The Wraith slashed its sword, and Draco shouted "_Protego_!" just in time. The sword rebounded off the magical shield, saving both of them from getting cut in half at the very least. The hobbits gasped in shock and the Wraith shrieked again, now clearly infuriated.

"Okay," Weasley muttered, "okay so that one works."

The Wraiths moved in, lifting their ash colored swords to lash at the shield, every blow feeling like a ton of boulders being dropped on it. Draco winced and tried to concentrate on keeping the shield up, but it wouldn't be long until they'd burst through. His arm was already shaking with fatigue at the volley of blows, and he doubted he'd be able to get another one up fast enough to block their attacks once it was down. Another instant later though, the pressure lightened somewhat as Weasley added his own shield to the weakening one. Draco recast, strengthening his charm, and the hobbits sighed in relief. Like this they might last, at least until Strider returned with Potter and Granger. The group of them might be able to fight them off, just long enough to make an escape.

Weasley recast his shield, and smiled at him. Actually smiled. "I never thought I'd say this Malfoy, but thank Merlin you're here."

He smirked back "I never thought the sentiment would be mutual, Weasley." A particularly hard crack of the sword had Draco hitting his knees and Weasley tightened his grip and braced himself while Draco recast his shield "Although, I think we should save the victory lap till later."

"Yeah, good idea…"

One of the Wraiths drew back its sword, preparing to slash again, but out of nowhere a torch flew through the air, end over flaming end, and hit its back, setting it aflame immediately. It whirled around, wailing and screeching in surprise and pain as a volley of sparks caught one of its companions, setting it alight as well. Strider came barreling into the fray, slashing at a Wraith with his sword, distracting it and slowing the attack on the shield. Close behind was Potter, and Draco caught the edge of Granger's robes as she darted around the outside, firing sparks into the fray and setting another Wraith alight.

The hobbits cheered as their rescuers dove into the fray, and at once Weasley and Draco dropped their shield charm and joined in, bellowing _Incendio_ at any Wraith that got too close. Potter and Weasley grinned at each other in greeting, maneuvering to keep the hobbits in front of them while Draco darted into the darkness to volley sparks with Granger. They ran around the outside, staying away from slashing swords and spells, diving behind boulders, and firing from the outside.

Granger skidded to a stop next to him, just avoiding behind hit with a spell as she ducked behind a pillar. "What happened?"

"Before you blame me, it was your little fire that attracted attention!"

She scoffed, shot a Wraith with sparks and retorted "You lot were supposed to extinguish it at sundown!"

"Yell at Weasley and the hobbits, not me!"

They moved again to avoid an attacking Wraith and Granger quickly set it alight, leaving it to flail and screech in an attempt to escape the fire engulfing it. "I have to give you credit though Draco!" She said as they ducked behind a pillar, "I didn't think you would have stayed behind to help!"

"Where precisely did you think I was going to go?"

"Here now!" Called Strider as the last Wraith was set aflame and rushed into the darkness to escape; the hobbits cheered again and clapped, Harry and Ron exchanged high fives and Hermione did an odd little jig with Merry and Pippin as Draco sank down to sit on a stone, shaking from adrenaline. Strider grinned at them all and clapped Draco on the shoulder "Come Master Malfoy, we cannot rest yet." Draco groaned and Strider helped him to his feet "The Wraiths have been bested for now, but they will return. We must move quickly, while we have the cover of darkness." He led them down the path where they quickly repacked camp and took off down the path again, moving quickly through the cover of darkness.

"How far are we from Rivendell?"

"Six days."

Draco stopped dead "That's nearly a week!" He cried in outrage. A loud, infuriated screech sounded off, not far from where they stood and Draco jumped and bolted, leading the others to move after him at nearly a sprint.

Strider grabbed Harry and Hermione "Can your magic not hide us from their gaze?"

Harry looked at Hermione, the expert in all things, who bit her lip and frowned "That's really complicated transfiguration, seventh year or better…" She shook her head "I don't know if we know anything like that."

Strider nodded, and then pushed them onward, and Harry desperately wished that he had his invisibility cloak.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but I had a horrible month and just didn't feel like writing, and I think you can really tell in some places that I had a hard time. I did my best, and planned on editing some more, but it's been such a long time that I wanted to get this out for you so you'd know I didn't forget about this story or your guys. Thank you so much for your patience, and please tell me about any typos you see.

This is the first chapter that we encounter any Elvish, so please be aware that the translations will come at the end of the chapter to avoid disrupting the flow. Most of my translations are from either or a quick Google search. Inaccuracy is inevitable.

Fans of the book may notice that things are beginning to line up a little, and as a matter of fact I borrow the odd quote (along with the chapter title) here and there. No copyright infringement is intended here; just a desire to have things fit the established cannon as best they can.

**Chapter 9: Flight to the Ford**

Those first three days were the hardest. With Strider pushing the group to their limit in a desperate attempt to put some distance between them and the no doubt infuriated Nazgul, it wasn't until evening the third day that they were finally allowed to settle and make camp. Sleep deprived and exhausted, they only took the time to have a brief, cold meal before they all settled right there on the cold hard ground and went right to sleep, their blankets still packed. Strider remained alert, watching for any sign of Wraiths or intruders. Harry barely slept, and it seemed he had only just laid his head down when Strider was roughly shaking him awake again.

"Quickly, a rider approaches."

"A Wraith?" Harry asked, drawing his wand and kicking Malfoy awake.

Strider shook his head, gray eyes focused into the darkness for the intruder. "No. Not a Wraith, but someone or something approaches."

Hermione and Ron slowly sat up, peering into the darkness as Draco dug out his wand. "Should we risk a concealment charm?" He asked Hermione.

Hermione looked at him blankly, blinking owlishly as though the thought hadn't even occurred to her "A concealment…?"*

"Or disillusionment?"

Hermione blinked at him again and then nodded dumbly. Draco immediately stood up and set about placing concealment charms around their camp, looking over his shoulder curiously at her when, rather than rising to help him, she remained sitting and looked at Harry, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment on her face. Harry felt quite the same way Hermione did. Three days of panicked fleeing with little time to rest or eat a proper meal, and the answer was right in front of them the whole time? And then for Malfoy of all people to point out the most obvious solution? It was intolerable.

"Why didn't we think of this three days ago, Hermione?" Harry asked her, more annoyed than embarrassed.

She sighed. "I don't know Harry, but it can't happen again."

Hermione was right. This sort of slip up couldn't happen again. Not when they didn't know where they were or how to get home. They couldn't afford to be sloppy here; not when Dumbledore wasn't around to clean up after their mistakes. Harry knew what the consequences were if someone slipped up, he'd just lost Sirius for the same sort of childish stupidity. They had to be more careful.

Strider, clearly sensing tension, cleared his throat "These charms will protect the camp?" His eyes were still fixed towards the trees surrounding their camp. Their camp was positioned at the base of a slope, with the Hobbits positioned on the interior of a circle formed by the others, but the slope wasn't so dangerous that a horse couldn't maneuver their way through the trees and in their midst.

Hermione nodded "They'll keep us from being seen or heard, but we have to be careful."

"We don't even know if they'll work." Harry quirked an eyebrow at Ron, who shrugged, "Half our spells didn't bother those Wraiths. The only ones that worked didn't really affect the Wraiths themselves, and we don't know what concealing charms will do."

"Sauron has many of his own spells on The Nine, his own protective enchantments and other dark magic. We can only hope these charms of yours will give us time to…" he held up a hand and everyone crouched down, drawings swords or wands.

A moment passed and he slowly stood, releasing the grip he'd had on the pommel of his sword. "That is no Wraith. Lucien, lower the charms." Draco hesitated at the sound of his Elvish name, and then waved his wand, clearing the concealing charms again. A moment later a rider burst into the underbrush, but he was no Ringwraith.

Practically glowing in the darkness, the rider must have been an Elf. Tall and lithe, his handsome face was sharply sculpted and his ears tapered to a delicate, leaf-shaped point. His hair was long and flowing, golden in color, and his eyes were icy blue and clear. He seemed to glow with power. Strider rushed over as the Elf dismounted and the two greeted each other warmly.

"_Ai na vedui Dunadan! Mae govannen!_" (1) The Elf's voice was clear as a bell, and Harry was more than a little startled when Hermione actually sighed and smiled dreamily at him. He was distinctly reminded of their second year, when she'd had that crush on Gilderoy Lockheart.

Ignoring Hermione's swooning, Strider and the Elf talked quickly, foreign words blurring together in their haste. After a moment Strider finally turned to the others "This is Glorfindel, an Elf from the House of Elrond."

Glorfindel inclined his head with a small smile "Well met." Hermione sighed again and Ron feigned gagging "I have been sent by Elrond to look for you. We feared you met danger on the road." He said to Frodo, but his blues eyes were fixed on Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco.

"Then Gandalf has reached Rivendell!" Frodo cried, standing up, but Glorfindel shook his head, looking back to the Hobbit.

"Not when I last departed, though that was nine days ago. Elrond received news that troubled him and sent some of my kindred to the north, west and south to find you. It was thought you might turn far aside to avoid pursuit and become lost in the wilderness. But come! There is no time for further news. There are five behind us, and where the other four are, I do not know. I fear the Ford may already be held against us." Glorfindel offered a hand to Frodo "Come, I will bear you ahead to Rivendell."

Frodo hesitated "I won't leave my friends here in danger."

Glorfindel smiled "It is you, Frodo, and what you carry that brings them danger. Come." Frodo hesitated another moment, but with reassuring nods from Sam he finally agreed and was lifted into the saddle. Glorfindel mounted gracefully, eyed Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco a moment, then with a nod sped away into the darkness.

Draco glanced at Hermione and rolled his eyes "Put your eyeballs back in your head, Granger, you're embarrassing yourself." He muttered, slinging his pack over his shoulder and clambering down from the stones he'd settled in to rest.

Strider clapped Harry on the shoulder and said "Come, let us follow. We are still on foot and not out of danger. Wraiths are not the only dark creatures that wander the wilds."

Ron faltered "And what else, exactly, is out here?"

Merry smiled at him and pointed behind him to where Draco had been laying "Trolls."

Harry, Ron and Draco whirled around with a start and found three, monstrous looking trolls not dissimilar from the one Harry and Ron had defeated their first year, though these three were clearly made of stone and were so covered in undergrowth that it was no wonder Harry hadn't noticed them before. Draco let out a cry and stumbled, though Marry and Pippin steadied him. Hermione edged in closer to examine the stone trolls and frowned, but didn't say anything.

Sam smiled "Mr. Bilbo's trolls. He'll love to hear about this."

Strider called them again "Come, Lucien, Hermione, cast your concealment charms. Let us make way."

"Oh! Should we have offered to do that Glorfindel and Frodo?" Hermione started "Will they be alright?"

Strider shook his head and started off into the trees "Nay, Glorfindel's steed, Asfaloth, has a speed that not even the Nine's mounts can rival. He will bear them to safety, and if that does not comfort you, Hermione, Glorfindel is one of few able to resist the Nine. Neither will come to any harm."

"Besides," Harry started, following Strider once Draco had cast a concealment charm "I think you should be more worried about us. We don't have a horse."

Strider led them into them trees at a much slower pace than the previous days. "While there is still need to reach Rivendell, the pace must not be so brutal anymore. We'll stop again in a few hours."

While it was true that the pace wasn't nearly as brutal as it had been, the next three days still weren't particularly easy. Strider kept them off the road to avoid running into Wraiths or anyone else and the trip was all the harder for it. The ground was soft and slick from rain and the group slipped and slid most of the way on damp leaves or stones hidden by moss. Harry wasn't surprised when, in loafers hardly made for hiking, Draco slipped and wrenched his ankle and was forced to limp along, using Bill as support, until it could be properly treated in Rivendell. This, of course, made the trip all the worse, as every so often Draco would whine, complain, or moan some combination thereof and usually to the tune of 'my ankle hurts, this is servant's work'. Strider, who only had so much patience, was usually quick to silence him with a stern look.

The group crossed the Ford on the third morning since meeting Glorfindel, and after an hour or so they finally saw Rivendell. Positioned across a valley from their position stood a series of low, white buildings that seemed to glow, much in the same way Glorfindel did. Framed from the back and sides by a sheer mountainside and tumbling waterfalls, Rivendell seemed precariously positioned on the edge of a cliff, and the only way for them to reach it was to pass across a long, narrow bridge. From what Harry could see, a great portion of the elvish outpost was completely covered with vines or cracked and damaged, much in the same way Hogwarts was; homey and comfortable, but still aged and more than a little mysterious.

A cool breeze swept down the mountain from the waterfalls and ruffled Harry's hair. Hermione inhaled deeply "My Lord, it's beautiful."

Strider smiled, though somewhat sadly. "Yes. Imladris is quite beautiful. Come, we must press on."

Leading them onwards, it seemed that they reached the gates of Rivendell in record time. Several elves, mostly dark haired, gazed down from their positions on top of the gate, looking from Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco to Strider in curiosity, but opened the gate without complaint. Stepping through into a courtyard, Hermione sucked in another breath. Rivendell was beautiful; tree lined and aged it felt comfortable but old, as though the structures and elves had been here for such a long time that not even nature minded the buildings anymore. Much like Hogwarts, it felt comfortable and Harry smiled in relief at being off the road and somewhere safe at last.

Two elves stepped up, near identical, they were dressed in elegant gray robes and both had long dark hair and gray eyes. Strider inclined his head in greeting "Elladan, Elrohir, _Im gelir ceni ad lin_. (2)"

Elladan, the elf on the right, inclined his head with a smile "We had grown concerned."

Elrohir continued "The road is ever more dangerous these days… but we will talk privately." He smiled at Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco "Welcome to Imladris, House of Elrond. I am Elrohir, and this is my brother, Elladan."

"Well met." Said Elladan, also inclining his head and Harry was startled to catch Hermione blushing out of the corner of his eye.

Sam stepped forward, impatient to see Frodo "Is Frodo here? Did Glorfindel get him here safely?"

The elves smiled at him "Yes, of course. He is having a late breakfast and would be happy to see his friends." Elladan said "I'll show you the way."

Harry moved to follow him but Elrohir moved into his path, though not rudely. "Frodo explained to us that you are Istari, and, forgive me, but there are few Istari in this world, and none that I know of are young as you. My father asks that you remain in your quarters until he has spoken with Mithrandir."

Harry's eyebrows shot up but Strider spoke before he got the chance "Elrohir, I speak for these four, they are not dark wizards nor spies. They had plenty of opportunity to do Frodo or I harm, but instead saved and protected him and his companions from the Nazgul. They have more than proven themselves allies and friends."

"They are still strangers here, Estel, and clearly not Istari of our world, as Glorfindel said." He looked back to them solemnly "Please take no insult, but times are dark and the world has changed. We cannot be so trusting to outsiders. You will be treated as guests here, fed, watered, given clean clothes and your injuries tended to, but we ask that you remain in your quarters for now." At Hermione's crestfallen look his eyes softened "It will not be long, lady. Perhaps an hour or two?"

Harry grit his teeth, but followed Elrohir quietly. Another elf, a woman with bright green eyes and thick black hair, stepped after them, taking Draco's elbow and placing a gentle arom around his shoulders to help support him along the way, him blushing all the while. She paid him no heed, just patiently aided him up steps and along a path to a large room with double doors that faced inwardly towards a courtyard lined with trees and a softly gurgling fountain. Draco was seated in a plush chair that faced a balcony, and the lady elf lifted his ankle and set to tending it. Elrohir pulled fresh clothes for them to change into, and had heaping plates of food brought. The room, more a cabin really, with four separate bedrooms with their own wash basins and a parlor, while lavishly decorated and surrounded by beauty suddenly felt cold and empty. Harry changed quietly into elf-made clothes that fit him perfectly, and the four ate their first proper meal in weeks, Hermione settling a table in front of Draco so he could eat without having to move. No matter how lavish the accommodations Harry was acutely aware of the fact that two guards were positioned right outside the doors.

No matter how beautiful the room, or how well the clothes fit or how comfortable the chairs and cushions were, there were still prisoners here.

* In the previous chapter the group couldn't cast a spell to conceal themselves because the transfiguration would be too advanced. CalcBoy91, pointed out to me that a simple disillusionment or concealment charm would work just fine. Hermione's reaction here to Draco's suggestion is near identical to mine upon reading the review he left, and I decided that rather than rewrite an entire chapter I would retcon things a little bit here. If it doesn't work out, or sounds too contrived please let me know and I'll try to do some editing.

(1) "_Ai na, Dunadan! Mae govannen!_" – "Ah, at last Westmen! Well met!" a direct quote from the book (The Fellowship of the Ring, pg. 236).

(2) "Im gelir ceni ad lin." – "I am happy to see you again."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** And here's the next chapter for your reading enjoyment. Updates may slow down now, as today is my first day of classes at my new college and I'm going to be busy, busy, busy with class work and… general exhaustion. I'll try to keep up with my updates, but I'm forgetful and easily distracted, so… feel free to remind me guys.

**Chapter 10: Late Night Discussions **

Rivendell was quiet in the way Hogwarts was at night, when all the students were tucked away in their dormitories and, when Harry wasn't off running after some evil Dark Lord or chasing escaped convicts, the air was soft and still. There was no noise save crickets and the odd hooting of an owl or murmur of lilting voices from beyond the door. Ron had already fallen asleep in the arm chair he'd been sitting in to eat, head lolling to the side and the occasional snore breaking the quiet. It was nice, peaceful, and such a stark contrast from the last few weeks of rough cross country travel and terror that Harry nearly thought everything that had happened was a dream. Nearly, but not quite.

Even though Ron hadn't been able to fight off the inevitable need to sleep, Hermione knew Harry well enough to know that something was coming. Hell, even Malfoy knew that something bad was coming, and was eyeing Harry warily from his seat, leg elevated, twirling his wand. Malfoy knew, and was enough of a strategist to know that with a wrenched ankle and angry Harry he wouldn't stand too much of a chance if things went… badly. And they would. After they'd cleaned up, changed clothes and eaten, Strider had come to them to update them on Frodo, and, initially, things had gone well enough…

When Glorfindel had taken off with Frodo he'd very quickly drawn the attention of the Nazgul, and the Nine had pursed them with almost Hellish determination the entire day and a half it had taken them to reach the safety of The Ford. They'd nearly been caught a few times on the road and nearly hadn't made it, but when they managed to reach The Ford, The Nine were scattered. Elrond was so desperate to find the Nazgul that he was sending scouts out in all directions to locate them, and couldn't see them until morning.

And that's where things took a bit of a turn. No, Harry didn't start storming around the room, breaking furniture or yelling, nor did he even speak, just nodded, bade Strider a good night, settled in a chair and stared at his Elven boots. But everyone could tell, they could just feel the tension seeping from Harry and into the room. Even Malfoy, who didn't know Harry half as well as Hermione and Ron did, sensed that something nasty was coming and had drawn his wand and hadn't put it away since. Hermione and Ron, who did know Harry, had sat in a tense silence waiting for the dam to break, but that had been about an hour ago and Ron had fallen asleep somewhere during that time. Hermione had pulled a few books from the shelves and was pretending to read, but her eyes hadn't shifted across a page yet, just stared fixed at one spot, hoping to avoid eye contact. Malfoy, however, was watching Harry guardedly from the corner of his eye, careful to avoid eye contact but equally as careful to keep Harry in his line of sight and, frankly, Harry was starting to feel more and more like a time bomb or a wild animal everyone was afraid to annoy.

"Well?" Harry nearly leapt out of his skin and Hermione squeaked and dropped the book she'd been hiding behind. They glanced at Draco, who was still watching Harry from the corner of his eye, but his wand had stopped twirling and was now held firmly in his hand.

"Well what?"

Malfoy sighed "Don't play stupid with me Potter; you're far too good at it." He didn't sound spiteful, just tired. "You think we're all just sitting here quietly for our health? Well, I am," he amended with a gesture to his ankle "but you two could move anytime you wanted to." Harry didn't catch it, being more direct and confrontational than Draco and therefore not thinking like him, but Hermione knew exactly what Draco was up to the moment he spoke and immediately leapt in to stop it.

"Now, Harry, he didn't mean it like that, he's just trying to provoke-"

"Actually Malfoy," Harry spat, ignoring Hermione "I _can't_. I'm stuck in here with _you_." He stood up, Hermione flinched and Draco tightened his grip on his wand. Yes, he'd provoked Potter on purpose, knew exactly how to play him really, but he'd never seen Granger flinch away before and was suddenly concerned he'd pushed it a little too far.

"I'd love to leave," Harry started pacing "I'd love to go home, and go back to bed and pretend none of this has happened, but I can't!" Ron jerked awake and leaned back, looking bewildered, but Draco kept his attention on Potter "I'm trapped in this room like a bloody prisoner because apparently I can't be trusted! It's not like we helped get Frodo here or anything! It's not like we saved his life -twice by my count- but no! We're obviously servants of-!"

Hermione leapt up to shush him but Draco cast _Silencio_ just in time and Harry's raised voice stopped abruptly, though his mouth kept moving. He looked at Draco furiously, but the blonde just twirled his wand around his fingers with a smirk. Ron looked confusedly from Hermione to Draco but didn't have a chance to ask his question when Hermione whirled on Draco and marched forward, swatting his shoulder.

"Malfoy, you little weasel, you knew you were going to rile Harry up! What on earth possessed you to say that for?! We're relying on these people you know, the last thing we need is to upset them!"

He leaned around her and looked at Harry, who was looking infuriated, but somehow calmer "Better?"

Everyone froze and Draco lifted the jinx so Harry could talk again. Harry swallowed, looked at Hermione, then Ron, and finally back to Draco and said quietly "Yeah, actually…"

Draco shifted his foot, annoyed at the twinge from his ankle and said "We're all pissed off and rightly so. We're stuck in here like bloody criminals."

Though Harry was startled to find an ally in Draco, he leapt on the opportunity "Exactly! We haven't done anything wrong! We're completely lost, with no idea where we are, yanked all over the place and now we're being locked away just for-!?"

"This is not our world." Draco cut him off abruptly "No, it's not right-"

"Because you're suddenly an expert on morality?" Hermione cut in.

"-but we're stuck here and we need to play nice or worse could happen to us than getting a nice bed and a hot meal." Draco shook his head "That's the problem with you Gryffindors, you never _think_, you just _act_. You go busting in, wands blazing, and hope everything works out for you when you should stop. And. Think."

Ron scoffed, but Hermione nodded "Loathe as I am to admit it, he's right. Things are different here, and we need to keep calm and collected. We need to learn the rules here before we go barreling off hoping for the best."

Harry sat, calmer now that he'd vented, at least a little, and frowned at Hermione "But we don't even know where we are, Hermione."

She gave him a look "Harry James Potter, don't even pretend that you didn't know where we were immediately when we were talking to Frodo and Sam back in The Shire. I saw the look you shot Ron, and the look Ron shot you!" She rounded on Ron, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, but Draco spoke first.

"Oh come now! _They_ know where we are and _I_ don't?!" He sighed and slumped in his chair "That's just embarrassing that is…"

Hermione smirked, not intending to mention that the three of them had been doing research and had stumbled across the pertinent information while doing said research, and that it wasn't likely Draco would have ever encountered it, in class or otherwise. It was nice to see the usually arrogant Slytherin humbled a bit, and she wasn't going to spoil the fun. She did, however, stride over to the bookcase in their room and pick a thick leather-bound from the collection, dropping it on the table in front of Draco and gesturing for Harry and Ron to join them.

"Now look," she said as they pulled up chairs "doesn't this book look familiar?"

"No."

"Yeah, actually…"

Hermione gave Ron an annoyed look "This was one of the books we found in The Room of Requirement, the one you tripped on actually Ron… only new and with all the pages. Obviously its missing loads of information, as the version we have was added to… And I'll have to copy out of this one to fill in the missing pages…" She muttered.

"What were you all doing in the Room of Requirement anyway?" Draco asked, but the others ignored him.

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the familiar book, only new and well cared for, though somewhat shorter. "Hermione… you can't be seriously suggesting that we're-"

"You thought it too, back in The Shire!"

"Yeah, but not seriously." Ron mumbled "I mean, how's it possible that we're…you know?"

"That we're what?" Draco asked, but again he was ignored.

"I don't know Ron, but where else could we be? Think about it, it makes total sense."

"In a completely illogical sort of way, yeah!" Harry argued "There's just no way Hermione, we have to be stuck somewhere else, or maybe…" when he faltered Hermione leapt on the opportunity.

"Harry, really, where else could we possibly be? Clearly we're not home; you would have been recognized by now if we were. Look at the book, it's the same one, but in much better condition and missing some information, meaning it hasn't been finished yet. We haven't seen any cars or planes, let along any wiring-"

"Or plumbing." Ron interjected.

"-and all the clothes are so different from home; they aren't even Wizarding robes, just older looking clothes. Draco, don't you think it's possible that… are you even listening?"

Draco, who'd propped his chin in his hand and had been staring out a nearby window with a dull look on his face, turned and said "Oh, am I allowed a part in the conversation now? Or would you rather I hobbled over to the corner and sat quietly? I'm sure that wouldn't do irreparable damage to my already ruined ankle."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow "It's sprained, you twit, it's not as though you need an amputation. Honestly…" she rolled her eyes but continued her question "As I was saying, don't you think it's entirely possible that we're trapped in the past?"

He froze, gray eyes wide, mouth slack, looking absolutely thunderstruck. Draco blinked at her, looked at Harry and Ron in bewilderment, looked back to her and opened his mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. Harry had never seen Malfoy lose his composure before, but it was rather amusing. After another moment's hesitation he finally spluttered "W-well, I don't…maybe?"

"See? Even Malfoy thinks it's ridiculous-"

"I didn't say that Weasley, don't put words in my mouth." Draco snapped, having regained his composure. He looked at Hermione again and shrugged "It seems… plausible. What were you all doing in The Room of Requirement anyways?"

"What's that got to do with it?" Hermione asked her tone a little too clipped. Harry could understand why, it wasn't as though they wanted to tell anyone, particularly Malfoy, that they'd been doing research on Voldemort. While Ron and Hermione didn't think Malfoy was a Deatheater, Harry still wasn't convinced of his innocence and was hesitant to share any information.

But Malfoy was good, exceptional really, at reading people, and he narrowed his eyes on Hermione, the worst liar of the three. "Nothing really, Granger." He said carefully and Harry suddenly hoped and prayed that Hermione could outwit the Slytherin. "But that is where everything started isn't it? Maybe whatever this book is," Hermione hurriedly pulled it away but Harry knew it was too late; Draco'd probably seen everything he needed to find the book again "could clue us in on what happened?"

Hermione tucked the book to her chest and shrugged "It's just a book on runes I was showing to Harry and Ron."

"Because they read so much."

"For homework, Malfoy." She snapped.

"You take Ancient Runes, not them." Hermione tensed up. "And you could have showed it to them in the dorm, not the Room of Requirement."

Ron and Harry glanced at each other when Hermione sighed, clicked her tongue and said "Fine! I got it from the Restricted Sect-"

"Room of Requirement, at least that's what you said a second ago…" Draco smirked at Hermione's flushed face. "Well, if it's not the book, maybe whatever you all were doing in The Room could clue us in? You haven't explained yet."

"We were studying." Hermione said "These two get distracted in the dorm and the library's closed at night."

"Really? Because I heard you talking about some place called Middle Earth. And a wide scale cover up done by The Ministry." Harry cursed inwardly and Ron groaned. Of course, Draco had overheard at least a portion of their conversation. They'd been so distracted lately that it was no wonder they'd completely forgotten about it. Harry doubted Draco would use the information to get them a detention; the stakes were much higher than that now and Draco was far too smart for his own good. He'd saved it to use on them, to get information about the situation. To strategize and manipulate. It was all very Slytherin and Harry should have seen it coming.

There was a pause as Hermione waited for Draco to continue, but he frowned in thought, eyes Harry and Ron, and then said "You're right there was a cover up. It was years ago, before we were born, before our parents were born. Father read about it somewhere or another –he didn't mention- and pulled some strings at work to find out more about it. Apparently a large portion of Wizarding history was covered up, since Muggles knew too much and it caused a war or something… I didn't get details."

Hermione frowned, knowing that their previous conversation was nowhere near over, but was happy to let it slide for now. If Draco wanted to wait, Hermione could wait, and hopefully hit him with a memory charm or two to try and do some damage control. "So… this is the past then?"

Draco shrugged "Not a lot of information survived the cover up. What did is in horrible condition, and can be written off as something else. The cover up was so good most of the Ministry even forgot about it. Father reckons Fudge doesn't even know."

"You didn't answer my question: do you think we're in the past?"

Draco hesitated and nodded. "Yes I do, and that begs another question doesn't it? How did we get here?"

"And why were we brought here?"

"Or sent," Hermione corrected, looking at Harry "this could be a plan by…" she glanced at Draco, who didn't react except to blink slowly, his face going blank as a slate. With a poker face that good, Harry suddenly wondered if the Malfoy fortune came from inheritance and good connections or if they gambled their way to riches.

Harry didn't get a chance to comment, as a quiet knock came from the door. Hermione darted over and opened it, stepping aside to allow Strider and two other men inside. One was an elf, and who Harry assumed to be Lord Elrond. He was tall and lean, with a chiseled, stern face and the tips of leaf shaped ears poked out of long, dark hair. He wore wine colored robes and an elegant gold headpiece. Behind him was a man who looked strikingly similar to Dumbledore. Dressed in gray robes, with a pointed hat, a long white beard and bushy eyebrows the two could have passed for brothers, though this man looked much less kind, and his gray eyes chilled Harry.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, Locien," Strider started "This is Master Elrond," the elf inclined his head gracefully "and Gandalf the Grey."

Elrond stepped forward "_Mae govannen _(1), welcome to Imladris, my home." He bowed his head in greeting and after the others had murmured their hellos continued "I wish to offer my apologies. With days so dark we do not greet strangers as kindly as we once did. Glorfindel and Estel tell me that you are Istari, but none that they recognize-" Harry frowned, not knowing who Estel was, but didn't interrupt "-and this is of great concern to me. There are few Istari in Middle Earth, and none so young as you."

Gandalf stepped forward "I do not recognize you four, though I am hesitant to name any of you an enemy. Strider tells me you were of great service to their journey."

"Without them Frodo surely would have suffered at the hands of the Nazgul." Strider said immediately, stepping forward.

Gandalf nodded and looked at Harry sternly, frowning at the scar "That is no average scar is it lad?"

"No sir." Harry was suddenly terrified of having to explain everything, from the time of his being a baby and through all his years at Hogwarts. It was difficult enough to explain to Strider without being too specific, and Harry knew their explanation, while rushed, had also been as vague as possible. They'd been hoping to avoid incriminating Draco who, for all his faults, didn't deserve to die or be taken prisoner. No, Harry wasn't fond of Draco, but he didn't want to see him hurt… seriously at any rate.

Gandalf nodded, "That is a mark of great evil, isn't it?" Elrond eyed the scar and Strider frowned.

Harry nodded "Yes sir."

Gandalf nodded again and glanced at the others "Perhaps we should hear your tale. Strider tells us it is a fantastic one, and I am always willing to hear a good story..." He settled in a seat next to Hermione and looked expectantly at the four of them.

"We'll tell you like we told Strider," Ron started "it's long, it's involved, and you aren't likely to believe us."

"Nevertheless," Elrond moved into a seat next to Draco, who tucked his wand away as subtly as he could, though Harry very much doubted that little got past Gandalf or Elrond "it is one we must hear."

"You need to know, first and foremost sirs," Hermione started "that we don't mean any harm to anyone. We're lost and just want to go back home. We don't want to hurt anyone or cause any trouble…" Harry was startled to see her chin wobble and Gandalf's expression softened.

"And we will aid you, Hermione, however we may." Strider said, taking her hand "But we must hear your tale." He looked at Harry "All of it, from the beginning."

So Strider knew they'd been hiding something. Harry couldn't say he was surprised, the man was smart and it was likely they'd all let something slip about events going on back home, or maybe he'd just put it together himself. Harry suspected that Strider had already told Elrond and Gandalf what they had told him.

Draco sighed "I'm never going to get to sleep am I?"

"Perhaps after," Gandalf started, sounding stern "we have decided if you are to be trusted or not, Locien…" his gray eyes twinkled "Though I very much doubt that is your real name."

Strider sat down next to Harry and said "I asked him to go by that name, Gandalf. His true name is Draco, and there are very few in this world comfortable with someone named for a dragon."

Gandalf nodded "A wise decision."

There was a pause and Hermione looked at Harry "You should go first Harry… since it all sort of started with you?"

"I suppose." Harry sighed and started their story, at the very beginning, so far back that not even Harry remembered all of it. So far back that, really, that no one was at all surprised that, after a few hours the sun began to rise and Elrond called for them to take breakfast there in their rooms while they continued their tale well into the day.

(1) Mae govannen – Well Met


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** So, so sorry that this chapter is so late. I've been so stressed out from college that I haven't really had time for any else. I'm withdrawing from a class to lighten my work load and stress, so maybe I'll be able to squeeze in some time for this and my other fics now.

If this chapter seems to end abruptly, it's because this one was getting too long, and I cut off a section from here to use for chapter 12.

Also, a shout out to all of my wonderful reviewers and watchers: you guys are a dream come true, I swear. Sorry this took such a long time.

**Chapter 11: Rivendell**

They didn't finish their tale until lunch, and the four of them were completely exhausted. Slumped in his seat, Ron was nearly asleep, and Hermione was leaning heavily on his shoulder, blinking owlishly. Draco's eyes were closed and he looked so still that Harry thought he was sleeping, but occasionally the Slytherin would contribute to the story, proving he was at least partially awake. As for himself, Harry could feel his eyelids drooping, even as he wrapped up their story, and was so relieved when Elrond told them to go and rest that he nearly hugged him. Restraining himself, Harry dragged himself, Hermione and Ron to a chamber off to the side, where four beds separated by gauzy silver curtains waited for them. Strider threw a blanket over Draco and then left with Elrond, promising to return after the four had rested up.

The beds were comfortable, the sheets cool and the blankets feather-soft, so Harry was hardly surprised when he woke up midmorning the next day, having slept through the rest of the afternoon and night. Washing his face in a basin of water provided by a window, he stumbled out into the main room and found more plates of food and pitchers of water had been provided, and that Draco was already tucking in for breakfast, face hidden by a book.

"Mornin'." Harry dropped into the seat across from Draco and pulled a plate of food close, tucking in with relish, suddenly starving. Draco hummed a greeting.

After a few quiet moments Draco closed the book "Interesting, what you all were reading back home in The Room of Requirement." Draco peered over his goblet of water to gauge Harry's reaction and found that he was still just groggy enough that his defenses weren't up yet. Now or never. "Wasn't for class was it?"

Harry shot him a look.

Draco shrugged and nibbled on a crust of bread "Just asking." There was a pause and then "Strider was here earlier. Gandalf's going to drop by later to speak with us, and probably Lord Elrond later. He's got messages or something to send out."

Mouth half-full of food, Harry asked "Wha's he sendin' mess'ges for?"

Draco gave him a narrow look "He's sending out warnings to his fellow elves about your atrocious table manners. Swallow would you?" Harry glared, but Draco continued "There's war brewing here Potter. That little trinket Frodo's got could spell big trouble if it falls into the wrong hands…" Draco shot Harry a look and pointed at the book "It's all here, well, most of it. From what I've gathered you all know more about it. Or at least Granger does, since you and Weasley are completely illiterate."

Harry bristled "I do read you know, Malfoy. I'm even willing to be I've read more in that book than you have."

"Having had the finished version, I should hope so." Draco replied dryly "How's it end then, if you're so well-read?"

"With the defeat of the Dark Lord here, but things might not work out that way now, so I'd keep my mouth shut about it if I were…" Harry, not a morning person and having realized what he'd revealed to Draco, frowned at him and leaned back in his chair, not sure what Draco would do with this information. On the one hand, it was only a history book, and might not mean anything to him. Harry wouldn't think anything of it, were the roles reversed, but he wasn't Draco and with things the way they were back home, he might just be clever (or Slytherin) enough, to put two and two together.

Draco glanced at Harry's annoyed expression and mentally ran over the conversation, having not expected Harry to reveal something so quickly. Then again, subtly wasn't exactly Potter's strong point and Draco had been up for an hour or so, mentally practicing how he might steer the conversation with Harry or Weasley or Granger, or all three. Granger was tricky, smart as she was, and Weasley could have random bursts of intuition and strategy that had served him well in the past. Harry, being temperamental, was of course the obvious choice to wheedle information from, but still, even Potter had his moments, and Draco had wanted to be prepared. Apparently all he'd needed to do was catch Harry when he was stuffing his face.

Pinning the moment in his mind, Draco rolled his eyes. "Is that what you all were doing?"

Harry feigned ignorance. "What?"

"Researching Dark Lords? Is that all?" Draco clicked his tongue and went back to his breakfast, "You were all acting as though it was some big secret…"

Harry shot upright in his chair "Wait, who else-?!"

"Keep your knickers on, that's not what I meant. Rub a few brain cells together, and look at it from everyone else's perspective: you're The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One… The…" Draco paused, "Er, what were the other ones? You cycle through those nicknames so fast it's a wonder The Prophet hasn't run out of them. Anyway, everyone sort of expects you to be doing research on He Who Must Not Be Named. I thought you all were actually up to something." He went back to his breakfast.

Harry inwardly sighed, relieved, but took a large bite out of a portion of cheese before Draco could read the expression on his face. Harry wasn't exactly pleased that Draco had figured out what they were doing in The Room of Requirement, and so quickly, but he'd admit he was happy Draco hadn't caught on to their suspicion of _him_. Well, Harry's suspicion of him, but now that they were so far away from home Harry was less concerned that Draco could act out whatever mission Voldemort had him on. Of course, that wouldn't stop The Dark Lord from getting some other Death Eater's kid to do it, but Harry couldn't worry about that now. He could only worry about getting home safely.

Harry, wrapped up in his food and thoughts, didn't catch the equally relieved expression on Draco's face, though the Slytherin masked it much more gracefully than Harry had his. It wouldn't do for Potter to question his sudden disinterest. Draco'd noticed Harry's piqued interest in him, and was not stupid enough to think that The Golden Boy was just keeping an eye on his rival. It was clear enough to Draco that he'd seen something he shouldn't have and at the worst possible time too. Draco had enough going on, worrying about his family and trying to get Snape to mind his own bloody business that he didn't need the added concern of having the worst possible person find out what he was up to. It didn't matter now though, being so far from home. While he hadn't forgotten the mission, or the danger his parents were in, he knew he couldn't exactly fulfill The Dark Lord's orders while he was here, and Draco felt all the better for it.

Both boys were dragged from their thoughts by Hermione and Ron coming into the room, both looking disheveled and groggy, but refreshed. "Good morning," Hermione called, sitting down next to Harry.

"What's for breakfast?" Ron seated himself on Harry's other side and immediately pulled a plate in close, heaping it with bread, cheese, fruit and other assortments.

Hermione, seeing Draco with the book, frowned but didn't say anything, instead tucking into her own plate with a contemplative expression on her face. Breakfast went quietly, and just as they finished a knock came at the door and Strider entered with Gandalf, who smiled at them.

"You all will be pleased to know," he started, seating himself stiffly next to Hermione "that you are now free to wander Rivendell at your leisure." He pulled out a pipe and prepared to smoke it, but gave Hermione a second glance and asked "May I?"

"Oh, certainly."

"Thank you." He set about lighting his pipe and, taking a drag, continued "After much deliberation Lord Elrond and I have come to the conclusion that you all aren't a threat, and are, as you say, lost."

"So you know how we got here?" Harry asked.

He shook his head and Strider answered "We are not certain, though we suspect The Dark Lord's influence."

"Though, that is the least of your concerns, at least for now. Your timing is most unfortunate. Middle Earth is on the brink of destruction and Sauron is at the height of his power… though I suspect you all are already aware of this?" Hermione nodded, but didn't elaborate. Gandalf nodded "It's wise of you to hold your tongue, at least in these matters. If others were to discover your origin they would demand to know all that you know… and things of this sort are tricky. I would recommend you not share what you know with anyone, not even me, and let things go their course. Particularly, at The Council."

"Council?"

"Lord Elrond has called a council meeting to decide what is to be done with The Ring, and what is to be done about you four." Strider answered "You are to attend, but tell no one, not even the Hobbits. This is not a meeting for prying eyes or ears."

"Few know who you are, and the fewer aware of you the better. Sauron has brought you all here for a reason, but it seems he has misplaced you. Whatever his intentions, it is unlikely he wished you to fall into the hands of the elves." He took another puff of his pipe and then spoke again, voice raspy "It is clear enough to me that, while you are young Istari, your powers are different than mine, and while not inherently evil there is always potential." Draco shifted uncomfortably under Gandalf's gaze and avoided eye contact. "You tell us that there is a Dark Lord threatening your world?"

Harry nodded "His name's Voldemort," everyone ignored Draco's flinch.

Gandalf nodded "And he's returning to power?"

"Oh he's back." Ron corrected "He's got all his old supporters with him again. As far as we know, he's preparing for war."

"Hmm." Gandalf frowned, looking distant, but didn't elaborate

Hermione looked at Strider "When is The Council?"

"You'll be told when to attend. For now, we are to await the arrival of The Council members, and their kin. Many of them have a far distance to travel, such as the elves of Mirkwood, and the dwarves from The Lonely Mountain. It is a long and dangerous road from Erebor and Mirkwood and it may be many weeks before The Council meets." He smiled at them "I would heartily recommend the four of you replenish your strength and enjoy all that Rivendell has to offer." Strider threw open the doors to their chambers and stepped aside, allowing the sunlight to pour in.

"Where's Frodo?' Hermione immediately asked. "I've been worried sick…"

Strider grinned "He is reuniting with his uncle, though he has promised to visit with you four later. In the meantime, you may prefer to see the training grounds, or the library?"

Hermione lit up like a Christmas tree "Library?"

Strider smiled "Elrond's collection of tomes is vast, Hermione, collected from all regions of Middle Earth… I have had a lifetime to read the books in his collection and have yet to make any headway."

Gandalf, snapping out of his reverie and catching the blissful expression on Hermione's face, chuckled "I would be honored to take you on a tour, young Hermione, if you would permit me." She nodded brightly and the two of them stood and made their way out of the room as Gandalf whispered conspiratorially to Hermione "Lord Elrond keeps all his favorite reading tucked away in a hidden alcove…"

Strider smiled after them and turned to Ron and Harry "Shall I show you the training grounds then? Young masters Brandybuck and Took are already there…"

Harry was about to agree when he happened to glance back, and caught a glimpse of Draco, sitting alone and flipping through a book Hermione had left abandoned on the table. Draco was usually good at hiding his emotions, but now? Draco looked lonely and forlorn, already resigned to his fate of being abandoned by the only people he knew in this whole world. And Harry, for all the desire he had to see Draco just as miserable as he'd made Harry and his friends, it suddenly felt wrong to just leave him there, after everything they'd been through together. A glance at Ron confirmed that he felt the same way, as the redhead was looking uncomfortably from Draco to Harry.

Strider followed their gaze and nodded in comprehension "Of course, we must wait for Master Locien to heal. Another time then." He clapped the boys on the shoulders in farewell and grinned at them amicably. Harry felt a pang, right in the pit of his stomach, but Strider seemed not to noticed and turned to leave with a nod.

That grin, that broad, happy grin, reminded Harry so much of Sirius it was nearly painful to see. Strider didn't grin nearly as much as Sirius had, and he usually looked rugged and exhausted from sleepless nights and rough cross country travel, but when he smiled his face lit up with warmth and Harry felt safe. Just like he had with Sirius; it hadn't yet been long enough that Harry had forgotten that empty, painful pit in his stomach and he hardly wanted to reminder of his dead godfather nearby all the time. It was just too much…

Ron, either not noticing Harry's distress or trying to change the topic, clapped him on the shoulder and rose from the table and over to a large cabinet set against a far wall. Pulling the doors open, he muttered "I wonder what they've got to do around- Aha!"

Both Draco and Harry glanced up and found Ron pulling a large, ornate chess set from the cabinet, the pieces shined and delicately carved from stones. He set it on the table and arranged the pieces, putting them back in order after they'd slid around from his jostling. "So it's not wizard's chess, but it'll do. C'mon Harry."

Harry shook his head "Oh no, you win every time. I'll play you after I see how bad Malfoy is."

Draco, at being addressed, blinked, glanced up and frowned, catching the insult, but didn't take the bait "I've heard about Weasley's games. Bloody brutal, they are. I'll sit here and mock your failure instead Potter."

"Gee, thanks…"

The game, as Draco had predicted, was brutal, and had somehow turned into a three-way game, Draco and Harry against Ron, who beat them spectacularly because the two couldn't agree on what moves to make. The next game was just as bad, and the third worse, if possible. When Ron suggested putting money on it, due to his winning streak, things turned absolutely vicious and Draco pulled a win right out of nowhere with a smug look on his face. They spent the next week this way, sitting quietly at a window and struggling to one-up-one another in chess. The hobbits would watch over dinner, and applaud the victor, and occasionally Strider or Gandalf would make an appearance and join in a game or two, though Strider preferred to watch the complicated maneuverings from a distance and no one liked to play Gandalf, as he nearly always won, no matter who he played.

When Draco's ankle was healed and he was allowed to limp around Rivendell, Ron and Harry immediately dragged him off to the blacksmith, eager to see what sort of weapons there were. They ooh-ed and ah-ed over the polished swords and bows and arrows, and Draco sighed in thinly veiled patience, finding the weapons useless, as his wand worked just fine. He'd drag them off the first opportunity he got and they'd mutter and complain to one another as Draco forced them to try and eavesdrop on as many conversations as possible, trying to find out the goings on of Rivendell and more information on the upcoming Council meeting. At night they'd play chess some more, and Hermione would curl up in a chair in the corner and hum contentedly as she read whatever book she'd borrowed from Elrond's study, ignoring the boys lighthearted bickering.

Hermione never played for a reason, besides that she could never remember what pieces did what and she hated being reminded that she had no talent for the game. She preferred to watch, from a safe distance, as the three boys bonded. Yes, bonded. It was strange, she'd admit, to see Draco there, included and accepted by Harry and Ron. No, Draco wasn't their new best friend, and Hermione hardly expected Draco to invite them to eat at the Slytherin table when they got home, but things were the best they'd ever been, and Hermione had a feeling her presence would only remind them of their familiar tension. As far as Hermione knew, to Draco she was still a mudblood, and whether or not his opinion of her had shifted in the least, Harry and Ron hadn't forgotten the insults. Her suddenly sitting with them, talking and joking with Draco, would remind them of every insult he'd levied against her. That tension would come back, and someone would sense it and lash out. Arguments would break out again, and before long everything would go back to normal. Hermione didn't miss fighting with Draco. After a while Ron and Harry might look up and wonder what happened and just when they'd accepted Draco into their good graces, but Hermione was leaving it alone. She was happy here with the books Lord Elrond had allowed her to borrow, writing notes and making copies to take back to Hogwarts. It was enough to see her friends happy that Hermione was content to let them bond while she sat in the background and read. It felt natural.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** Hey guys! I know it's been a LONG time since I last updated, so I made this chapter longer than usual to make up for it. I've had a lot of things going on here lately, that have distracted me from writing, but things seem to be settling down now, so maybe I can get some stuff done!

Hope you enjoy the chapter, and thanks to everyone reading! You guys are the greatest.

*Edited to correct my egregious misspelling of Thranduil. Sorry 'bout that!

**Chapter 12: The Council Assembles**

The Council of Elrond wasn't called to meet for another two weeks, time that was spent meandering Rivendell and eavesdropping on conversations to try and find out more about the arriving delegates. Dwarves from a place called Erebor, a kingdom settled in mountain halls and built by dwarves. Hermione and Frodo told them that the kingdom had been attacked by a dragon and that relatively recently, at least for dwarves; they had taken back the kingdom and regained their wealth. The elves coming were from Greenwood the Great, but from what Draco had overheard from Gandalf and Lord Elrond it had been renamed Mirkwood. Some strange darkness had spread through the forest and it was now inhabited by dark creatures and evil things. The two weren't painfully specific about the situation, and before Draco had found out anymore Strider had caught him eavesdropping and had dragged him away by the ear and forced him to clean swords for the blacksmith for the rest of the afternoon. Harry and Ron had asked Hermione who handed them a few books and went back to her own reading. Needless to say, the pair knew little more than they had started with.

In the mean time, they had met many elves around Rivendell, such as Arwen, Lord Elrond's beautiful daughter. She and Hermione had grown close through Hermione's visits to Elrond's study and Arwen introduced herself one afternoon while she was taking a walk with Strider, the two arm-in-arm and looking very cozy. Ron had quickly devolved back into a state similar to that when he'd been around Fleur Delacour in their fourth year and Draco had had to drag him away before he'd made a fool of himself. It was Arwen who came to fetch them the morning of The Council Meeting, saying that the delegates had all arrived late the previous evening. With a kind smile she handed them fresh, elven clothes, and patiently helped Hermione tie the laces to the yellow dress she was wearing to the meeting.

They ate quickly, and then Arwen led them to the outdoor pavilion where The Council would meet, secreted away behind thick oaken doors in Lord Elrond's study. The other delegates were already there, and Strider greeted them with a tired, somewhat grim smile.

"What troubles you?" Arwen asked.

Strider sighed and glanced over his shoulder to where the dwarves from Erebor and the elves from Mirkwood were having something of a face off on either side of the door, both parties trying to ensure they would be allowed inside first. It was amazing, just how different the two groups were to each other. The dwarves were made up of short, stocky men, taller than hobbits but shorter than men, all wearing heavy armor and sporting long, thick beards of varying colors. The elves, on the other hand, were tall and slender, somewhat shorter than their Rivendell compatriots, dressed in greens and browns with golden hair and sharp, suspicious eyes. The leaders of the groups –an auburn headed dwarf and a pale, blue eyed elf- glowered at each other sternly and had their backs to each other. Their companions did little to ease the tensions: some were shooting quiet glowers at each other, while others exchanged verbal insults in painfully civil voices. It reminded Harry of his arguments with Draco when there were teachers present and he recalled just how venomous someone could sound when pretending to be polite.

Arwen nodded in understanding "They will settle their dispute. My father will ensure it."

"Or Gandalf will." Harry mumbled. From what he could tell of the wizard, he wasn't one to suffer fools easily, and if the elves and dwarves couldn't get their acts together, he'd make them.

"What's their problem?" Draco muttered.

Arwen sighed "That is a long story, Locien, and one that defies proper explanation. The feud between elves and dwarves has gone on for so long that many do not even remember what started the fighting."

Hermione perked up, eager to answer a question "I read in some of Lord Elrond's books that the feud started when King Thranduil, the ruler of Mirkwood, refused aid to the dwarves of Erebor when Smaug the dragon attacked."

Strider smiled "That is the cause of this particular feud, yes, but all dwarves and elves are... argumentative."

Ron, who'd been mostly ignoring the conversation, glanced up at the leader of the elves and squinted, then looked at Draco "That elf looks _just_ like you…"

Harry looked at the elf and frowned. Ron was right; the two looked eerily similar to one another: from the same lean, almost hungry looking frame and the way they carried themselves, to the same white blonde hair and sharp, angular features. Draco had gray eyes though, and the elf's eyes were so pale it was hard to tell just what color they were from the distance.

Draco craned to look and Strider frowned in consideration "There are striking similarities, but I doubt you are related to Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood. Perhaps you may be of mixed heritage, Locien?"

Harry stifled a snort at Draco's expression, which had twisted into a mixture of equal parts revulsion and surprise. Before he could comment and start a pure-blood rant the doors to the pavilion opened, and Elrond welcomed everyone inside. There was an immediate start for the door during which the elves and dwarves competed for first entry, but the elves won with Legolas gracefully maneuvering into the pavilion without so much as touching a dwarf. The dwarves followed in afterwards, and then Gandalf ushered Frodo inside, though where they had come from Harry wasn't sure. They were the last inside, preceded by a tall, broad man with auburn hair, dark blue eyes and a goatee, who shot the four of them a suspicious, questioning look as they filed in and sat next to Frodo in seats farthest from the door. The pavilion was cool, but warming from the morning sun and a soft breeze ruffled hair and robes all around. Birds chirped cheerily from nearby trees, and friendly chatter filled the pavilion before Lord Elrond stepped forward and opened his hands in a gesture of welcome. Everyone settled into silence as he began to speak.

"Strangers from distant lands," his eyes raked over Harry "friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands on the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall." Lord Elrond's dark eyes glittered and gazed sternly at the elves and dwarves, who shifted uncomfortably. "Each race is bound to this fate: this one doom." Lord Elrond turned to Frodo "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Harry patted Frodo on the shoulder as the hobbit shakily rose to his feet and moved forward, depositing a simple golden band on a stone pedestal in the middle of the pavilion. Immediately a shadow fell across the council, and murmurs of concern and fear broke the stagnant silence. Harry was seized with an impossible urge to rush forward and grab the ring, but shook it off and glanced around. It seemed he wasn't the only one: Ron was licking his lips with interest and Draco was staring at the ring like a cat might watch a mouse. Hermione refused to look at it at all, but her hands were wringing in her lap. Other members of the council scooted forward in their seats, eyes fixated on the ring.

The auburn headed man who had entered before them exhaled and stood "In a dream I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the west a pale light lingered. A voice was crying 'your doom is near at hand'," he stepped forward, gazing at the ring, a hand extended "'Isildur's bane is found…'"

Elrond and Gandalf exchanged concerned glances and Elrond's lips thinned "Boromir!" He shouted, but his shout was drowned out by Gandalf, who began chanting:

"_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._"(1)

All at once the birds went silent and the sky darkened. The earth shook, and many of the council members leapt for their weapons, though most of the elves clutched their temples as if in pain. Lord Elrond dropped back into his seat, face pinched, and Arwen, who was sitting behind her father with her brothers, closed her eyes tightly, as if trying to block out the sound. The brother nearest her wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Harry looked wildly about, trying to find the source of the sudden chaos. It was only after a moment that he realized Gandalf's chanting was the source, and another moment that he realized that the odd, harsh words being chanted were what they heard back in the Room of Requirement before they'd been brought here.

He moved to stand up and say something but Draco dragged him back into his seat and Hermione shook her head at Ron, frantically whispering "No! Don't! What will everyone else say if they find out?"

_Find out what?_ Harry was going to ask, but in the next moment everything stilled and the man, Boromir, had sat back down, looking shaken and nervous. Elrond was clutching his temple as though he had a headache; the rest of the elves looked much the same.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!" Elrond snapped, face pinched in irritation. Behind him Arwen was reassuring her brothers, though she looked a little pale.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf said his voice raspy and face paled "for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west! The ring is altogether evil!" He shot a scathing look at Boromir, who leaned forward.

"But it is a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring?" Boromir stood up again and began to pace, looking imploringly from one face to the next "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wield it!" Strider argued "None of us can. The One ring answers to Sauron alone, it has no other master."

"And what," Boromir started with a sneer "would a _ranger_ know of this matter?"

The pale elf from earlier, Legolas, stood up "This is no mere ranger. This is Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Hermione gasped and looked at Strider in surprise, but Harry, Ron and Draco all exchanged confused glances. Hermione shushed them before they could ask their questions and Harry hoped she would explain later.

"Aragon?" Boromir was still incredulous, but looked at Strider differently. His blue eyes were colder. "_This_ is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor."

"_Havo dad, Legolas_…" (2) Strider said a look of embarrassment on his face. Legolas resumed his seat, but didn't take his eyes off of Boromir.

Draco blinked and lifted a hand "I'm sorry, but you mean to tell me that… Strider is heir to some throne?"

Hermione whimpered "Oh no…" and looked around at the others with trepidation.

"Some throne?" Boromir demanded, moving forward. Draco eyed the sword at Boromir's hip in nervousness, but didn't recoil. "_Some_ throne?! And just who are you to-?"

"Oh calm down, that isn't what I meant." Draco interrupted "I was surprised that Strider of all people would be heir to _any_ throne." Draco craned his head around Boromir to look at Strider "No offense."

Harry highly doubted Draco meant that last bit, but Draco was covering for his slip up well. Their lack of knowledge of Middle-Earth could spell disaster if they weren't careful, could out them as strangers before they were ready. Lord Elrond intended to ask the council members for help in getting them home, yes, but Harry was sure Lord Elrond had a plan for what he was going to say, how he was going to introduce them. The Ring was their first priority, not a group of lost kids.

Strider opened his mouth to reply, but the leader of the dwarves cut him off "I beg your pardon lad, for interruptin', but I can bear this no longer." He inhaled and looked at Elrond, then gestured at the four wizards "This is a dark, grim discussion, and hardly suitable for children. I must ask the council why they feel it is appropriate to allow four children, one of them but a young lass, to sit in this meetin'?"

"They are no mere children, Gimli, son of Glóin," Gandalf snapped "and young Hermione's gender does not and should not prevent her from being treated with the respect that she is due."

Gimli quickly amended, looking to Hermione "I mean no disrespect o'course, but this is still not a discussion for children."

"We're sixteen." Draco snapped "Nearly adults, and perfectly capable."

"Calm yourself, Locien." Strider soothed with a warning look "No one here doubts you or your companion's capabilities."

"Just their age!" Boromir shouted, cutting it "They are but children!"

"And I say I do doubt their capability." Gimli said, stroking his beard "What reason do these four have for being in this meeting?"

Elrond spoke up "They helped bring the Ring here, and fought bravely to keep it out of the hands of the nine. They have every reason to be present for the decision of its fate, _which is what we are here to discuss_." Elrond's tone left no room for argument, but the others weren't dropping the subject so easily.

"The nine?" Boromir exclaimed. "These four fought the nine? The wraiths?" He looked at them incredulously "How would four men, let alone children, fight the nine and live to tell the tale? They carry no scars; save for this one," he gestured at Harry, who tried to vainly pat his hair down to cover the lightning bolt "no signs of battle… how? How was this done?"

Gimli eyed Draco and Ron and then grumbled "And those two have an elfish look about them… particularly the fair headed one. What are we not being told?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes at Gimli "What does their heritage –mixed or otherwise- have to do with the discussion at hand?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure how it happened or just when it happened, but in the next moment the council devolved into absolute anarchy. Cries for explanations and demands for proof of heritage filled the pavilion, shouting and yells drowning each other out. The dwarves looked ready to draw their weapons.

Draco leaned back in his seat. "Well, that escalated quickly."

Hermione leaned over Ron and swatted Draco "Why is it so difficult for you to keep that mouth of yours closed, Malfoy? Things are difficult enough without you telling everyone in Middle-Earth-"

"That you are just as mouthy as I am?" Draco interrupted loudly, drowning out the last of her sentence.

Ron jumped in "Why didn't you let me say anything when Gandalf-?"

Hermione shushed him and leaned in, dragging Harry in with her "Because not everyone knows what happened to us, and Lord Elrond doesn't exactly want to broadcast it." She lowered her voice even more and Draco had to lean in to hear her "That language is evil, Ron, so imagine what everyone would think if they knew that it was the last thing we heard before we showed up here." Hermione was hard to understand, as she was trying to speak without moving her lips too much, and in a volume so low that she was hard to hear, even as close as they were.

It seemed, however, that elves had excellent hearing. Legolas was suddenly standing over them, looking curious "From where?" He asked quietly. Legolas' pale blue eyes narrowed "You four are no mere children of men, are you?"

Hermione flushed, gaped, and struggled to find an answer, but Gandalf had finally had enough and bellowed, swelling in size and power, the trees creaking and ground rumbling "_Enough!_" The silence that followed was ringing and stifling. "You are all behaving like children! If you do not unite, you all will perish! Evil marches from Mordor, the One Ring has been found, and all you are all capable of is arguing and in-fighting? Of casting suspicion and doubt? Now is _not the time_." Everyone sat back down, but Legolas was still eyeing the four, face smoothed of expression. Gandalf alone remained standing.

"Now is the time for peace… and, I suppose," he sighed heavily and looked at Harry "for explanation."

There was a pause and then Harry, realizing what Gandalf was suggesting, sputtered "What, again!?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, _again_; we will get nothing accomplished here if the peace is not restored and their suspicions are not put to rest."

Gandalf gestured to the center of the pavilion, where the Ring still sat, innocently twinkling. Harry had been around magical objects, some with wills of their own, but nothing had a pull on him like the Ring did. So, rather than move closer to it, Harry carefully maneuvered around the pedestal and positioned himself next to Gandalf and Lord Elrond. Their solid presence would keep him grounded.

All eyes were on him, nothing unusual, but, suddenly, Harry was nervous. These people hadn't known who he was, hadn't known that he was supposed to be some great, all powerful wizard. To be honest, he'd liked the anonymity.

"Er… I'm not sure where to start…"

'The beginning would seem the best place." Gandalf said wryly.

Harry rolled his eyes "Well, I guess it all started the night my parents were killed."

(1) One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them.

(2) Sit down, Legolas.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** Good grief, _finally_! I have spent the last few weeks struggling to churn this one out. Between family drama and the usual distractions of everyday life, I had a hell of a time trying to finish this beast for you guys. I am so, so sorry it took so very long. I tried to make the chapter a little longer to make up for the wait. As it is, since I am now on summer break, I'm going to _try_ (note the _**try**_) to update at least once a week in an attempt to get a rhythm here.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter despite its rocky ending and lateness. Once again, so sorry. Enjoy the chapter, and feel free to leave a review. They totally keep me going.

**Chapter 13: The Making of The Fellowship**

"Firstly, before I really start anything, you all need to know that the four of us… we're wizards." Harry drew his wand and showed it to the assembly, "We aren't just a bunch of random kids."

"We're a bunch of _magical_ random kids." Ron quipped.

Harry waved his wand and levitated an ornate stone vase spilling over with ivy and flowers and moved it around the outside of the group in a wide circle, careful to keep it from dropping or hitting any of the council members. They whirled around in shock, following the levitating urn with panicked expressions, though Gandalf appeared to be smiling beneath his scraggly beard. Harry levitated the urn to Draco, who took control of levitating it while Hermione and Ron took turns changing it to different colors or making the designs around the outside move and shift. Draco returned it to its proper place, the carvings went still, and the assembly eventually settled down.

"As for our story, it's long, and I don't know the whole thing. I don't know the details, and I don't know if I ever will." Harry glanced around "Look, I can only tell you what I know, and that's my part. There's more to it than that, and I don't know most of it. It's a story that's been going on for a while now, since before we were born... and we haven't been told everything." Harry said, rather bitterly, looking around at the assembled council members. There were a few nods of understanding, but no interruptions, so Harry continued "It sort of started the night my parents were killed –murdered actually. You lot aren't the only ones with a Dark Lord. Back home, where we're from, we have Lord Voldemort." Ron gave a violent flinch and Draco twitched and looked around, as though Voldemort might have been summoned "He wants to run our world –the Wizarding world- and he wants to enslave or kill all mugg…non-magic folk."

Gimli spoke up "So why kill your parents, lad?" Their little magic show seemed to have made an impression, and most of assembled council members were looking at them with new respect, Gimli included.

Harry sighed "That's where it gets complicated. Last year I found out that there was a prophecy about Voldemort, about how he might be defeated. _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal. But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die and the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives_. One of Voldemort's servants told him about it, and he worked out that there were two babies that fit that description, me and a friend of mine. Voldemort chose me. He found my parents, and killed them when I was a year old, and then tried to kill me."

There were murmurs of discontent and a few disbelieving grumbles, but Boromir spoke over them "How were you able to survive?"

Harry pushed his hair back, revealing the scar "My mum tried to protect me, begged Voldemort to take her instead, and leave me but he killed her anyways, then turned on me. That kind of love leaves behind very powerful magic protection and instead of killing me, the spell rebounded and hit him instead. Everyone thought he was dead, but he wasn't. Not really, he was a… wraith, or ghost or something, not alive and not dead either… but he's back now, and so are his followers." Harry winced inwardly, as the gazes of the council members slowly began to shift into _that_ look. The one that followed Harry around wherever he went, the semi-awed somewhat disbelieving look he got from people who knew even a few parts of the story. He suddenly wished he hadn't said anything, had never volunteered the story in the first place.

Lord Elrond spoke and broke Harry's train of thought "This is familiar to us. Sauron once had great power and solid form, however after his defeat in the Second Age his spirit fled. Such evil cannot be destroyed, not permanently. Sauron is now regaining power and strength…" Elrond threw a glance at The Ring "We may not be able to defeat him again." Elrond looked back at Harry "This Voldemort must have great power."

Hermione nodded "And loyal servants."

"He's been trying to kill me for years now, even before he was back to full strength."

Boromir spoke up again "How was Voldemort able to find your family? Did you not say they were in hiding?" Something in Boromir's tone, the way he said _hiding_, caught Harry's attention and he narrowed his eyes.

"They weren't cowards if that's what you're implying. My parents were in hiding to protect me, they couldn't very well fight a Dark Lord with a baby to look after could they, particularly one that may, or may not be the one with the power to destroy him? They were betrayed by someone they trusted, someone they thought was a friend. That same someone helped bring Voldemort back to full power." Boromir frowned and his fingers brushed over the pommel of his sword, but he was no longer looking at Harry.

Harry continued "Anyways, Voldemort's been trying to kill me for years, but I won't drag the story on that long. Lord Elrond has those details, if you want them. All you need to know is that Voldemort is back, with full power and all his followers, and our world is preparing for battle."

Legolas, who had been sitting quietly with a look of contemplation on his face the whole time, finally spoke up "Your world is not our world, is it? Or we would know of your battle against this Voldemort."

Harry shook his head "No, this isn't our world. We were brought here a few weeks ago… The four of us were separated off, when we heard chanting. We didn't know it then, but it was the Black Speech… then we woke up here, well, in The Shire."

The Council members all looked at each other, muttering to one another and shooting now suspicious glances at Harry and the others. The dwarves were the loudest, and Boromir spoke up with a loud grumble "How do we know, then, that these four can be trusted? They are clearly powerful and capable wizards. Are we expected to just take them at their word? How do we not know they are not spies for Sauron, or under his spell?"

Lord Elrond answered sternly "We do not, Boromir, but if Harry and his companions meant any ill will, or had any intentions to take The Ring, they have had multiple opportunities to do so and have instead chosen to defend it and its bearer on their journey to Imladris. It is clear that Sauron brought them here, but we do not yet know for what purpose, nor what plans he may be devising, though I doubt Sauron has any pure intentions for our new friends."

"What makes you think this?"

Gandalf spoke then "To have brought these four young wizards to this world at this time, when they have not yet completed their training and when our world is descending into madness, demonstrates he has ill-will towards them. Had he wanted their aid, he would have appeared in a different form, convinced them with promises of power and corrupted their minds, not pulled them violently from their home to be plopped in the Shire with The Ring. It is my belief, though I have no proof of this, that perhaps Sauron meant to bring you four here to destroy you."

Draco baulked "Why would he want to destroy us?"

"Of that, I am not sure, young master Malfoy. Perhaps he has some connection to your Dark Lord? Perhaps there is another reason unbeknownst to us. Of what I am sure is that Sauron's thought is so bent on The Ring he could not direct you elsewhere-"

There was a strange murmur, as if the wind itself were whispering, and all eyes in the council fell onto The Ring, the light gleaming around the golden edge a little too bright, the gold band itself a little too... shiny. Harry shivered despite the relative warmth of the sun streaming down into the pavilion, and took a very small step away from the Ring.

Gandalf continued "What I do know" he started slowly, eyes fixed on The Ring "is that the four of you are very far from home, and that your fate is tied to the fate of The One, and perhaps the fate of Middle Earth. Once we have decided what is to be done with The Ring, we may be better able to decide how best to aid you."

"Well," Ron started "you're gonna destroy it, right? I mean," he gestured to Gandalf "you said it was evil. And Strid-er... Aragorn says we can't use it. So what else is there to do but destroy it."

"Well then," Gimli suddenly growled, drawing his axe "what're we waitin' for?"

The dwarf lunged forward, axe swinging in a wide arc down onto the little gold band. Just as steel met gold there was a flash of light, a blast of impossibly hot air, and Harry was blasted off his feet and back into Aragorn, who caught him before he could hit the ground. No one was there to catch Gimli, who'd been thrown to the ground, his axe destroyed, shards of the steel lying scattered about the pavilion, no more than shrapnel. Pieces of the axe laid in crumbled bits on the stone dais around The Ring, which hadn't suffered a bit of damage and lay glinting in the sun, almost seeming to mock the dwarf's attempt.

Lord Elrond looked stern and unsurprised as Harry and Gimli were helped back to their feet. "The Ring cannot be destroyed by any craft we here possess. It was made deep in the fires of Mordor and only there can it be unmade. The Ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fires from whence it came."

The wind whispered again, The Ring twinkled on the pedestal and Harry was careful to keep a fair few feet between him and the little gold band. As he sat he noticed Frodo clutching his head, staring at The Ring in a combination of fear and desire, but when Harry tried to catch the Hobbit's eye Hermione yanked him to his seat with a muttered command to sit down.

The pavilion, already still, went downright rigid when Lord Elrond concluded his speech with "One of you must do this."

Harry was suddenly yanked to the side and Draco was whispering viciously in his ear "You volunteer us and I will personally feed you to a pack of wolves."

No one (perhaps excluding the elves, who were all suddenly eying Draco with a little wariness) heard Draco's threat as Boromir had begun to speak: "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep... The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust."

"Sounds pleasant." Ron muttered.

"The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume." Boromir continued.

"_Ravenous_ wolves." Draco enunciated through clenched teeth.

"Not with ten thousand men could you do this, it is folly!"

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond just said?" Legolas scoffed, leaning forward in his seat "The Ring must be destroyed."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli snapped, and Legolas fixed an icy glower on the dwarf.

Boromir heaved himself to his feet "And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his!?"

Aragorn rose to answer to Boromir, but Gimli cut him off, also standing "I will be dead before I see The Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

Legolas threw himself out of his seat as his companions all rose, drawing daggers and swords as the Dwarves drew their axes, and dove between the groups, arms raised to hold them back, though he met the steely glare of each Dwarf with an equally cold stare. Meanwhile, the other half of the pavilion had also descended into chaos, as Boromir and Aragorn argued, Boromir not-so-subtly attempting to maneuver closer to The Ring, Aragorn keeping himself firmly planted between the two while the council members around them argued and bellowed, tripping over each others' robes and gesturing wildly to and fro. Gandalf was quick to leap into the fray in an attempt to silence the anarchy, but the council wasn't having it this time, and he was met with several members attempting to charge the four wizards, though for what they weren't sure. Lord Elrond sank back into his set and massaged his temples.

"These lot certainly do like their fighting..." Draco drawled.

"They're frightened Draco. People aren't exactly logical when they stand to lose so much." Hermione retorted.

Draco scoffed "No one's arguing that Granger, but you'd think a group of grown men... well, adults, would be intelligent enough to realize they're playing right into Sauron's hands."

Ron snorted "Because you're so rational when you're scared, Malfoy."

"At least I don't wet myself at the sight of a spider, Weasel." Draco bristled.

"At least I don't need my Dad to fight all my battles for me, Ferret-Face."

Draco and Ron both stood and faced each other, red in the face "Not that he could, too busy getting lost on his way to work in the morning isn't he?"

"Back off Malfoy," Ron growled, drawing his wand, Draco drawing his immediately after.

Hermione jumped up and elbowed her way in between them, "Will you two stop it?! Honestly, you are acting like children!"

Harry prepared to defend his friends, going for his wand and standing, when, through shifting robes and the gaps in between elbows, he caught sight of the Ring, twinkling and shimmering in the light. He frowned, as the same whispering and murmuring filled the pavilion, unheard by everyone arguing and bellowing. When did The Ring get so big? Wasn't it just a tiny band? Maybe it was the way the light was hitting it, gracing the curved edge almost lovingly so the light glinted just so. Harry blinked and shook his head, having taken a step towards the Ring before consciously realizing he'd even moved. Ron, Hermione and Draco were still screaming at each other, as was everyone else, except for himself and Elrond, who was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry flushed and took a step back, bumping into Ron, when a little voice cried out over the commotion:

"I will take it!"

A few people turned and looked around, searching for the source of the voice, when Frodo stood up and called out again "I will take The Ring to Mordor!"

Now everyone had gone silent, even the Dwarves, through a few had drawn their weapons back. Gandalf alone made a sound, heaving a sad mournful sigh.

"Though," Frodo continued "I do not know the way."

Gandalf approached "I will help to bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf stood behind Frodo, hands planted comfortingly on the Hobbit's shoulders.

Aragorn pressed through the crowd and crouched in front of Frodo "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

"And my bow," said Legolas moving forward to stand with Frodo.

"And my axe." Gimli growled, ignoring Legolas' annoyed expression.

There was a pause, and Harry glanced over at Draco who frowned "You're volunteering us aren't you?"

Harry and Ron shuffled a few steps closer to the slowly expanding group, smiling. Aragorn clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, and Gimli nodded in approval, though Legolas frowned slightly. Draco turned to Hermione.

"And do you subscribe to this madness?"

She nodded, shifting over to stand with Ron "Where The Ring goes we have to go, Draco." Hermione said. "It's the reason we were brought here. But you can stay here, if you like? Is that alright Lord Elrond?"

The Elf Lord nodded "If young master Malfoy so chooses, he may remain here."

Hermione sidled a glance at Draco, smiling slightly, while Aragorn watched him evenly. Frodo leaned forward to look up at Draco hopefully, and the Slytherin moaned and rolled his eyes "Oh bloody- fine! Fine!" Aragorn and Hermione exchanged grins as Draco stepped over and joined them, grumbling in annoyance under his breath. Aragorn clapped a hand to his shoulder.

Boromir moved forward, gazing at the assembled group with an appraising gaze "You carry the fate of us all, little one." he said to Frodo "If this is truly the will of the council," a few scattered nods affirmed Boromir of the decision "then Gondor will see it done."

"Here!" Everyone jumped and looked around as Samwise Gamgee came out from behind an urn of flowers and darted through the group to stand next to Frodo "Mr. Frodo's not goin' anywhere without me!"

Elrond smiled "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Sam flushed.

"Wait!"

"Oh now what?" Draco demanded as Merry and Pippin came out from behind there own hiding places, where they'd tucked themselves behind a pair of pillars.

"We're coming too!" Pippin called as they darted across the pavilion and stood on either side of Frodo and Sam.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry agreed, and Draco shot them a look as if he very much wanted to.

"Anyways," Pippin said, ignorant of the looks they were getting "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing."

"Well that rules you out Pip." Merry quipped, earning an affronted look.

Hermione stifled a giggle in Ron's shoulder and Gimli coughed, through he looked amused beneath his bushy auburn beard. Gandalf was gazing around the pavilion as through trying to figure out just when the Hobbits had come in, and Legolas' frown had grown deeper.

Lord Elrond gazed over the group, an expression of half amusement and half annoyance on his face "Thirteen companions."

"And unlucky number." someone murmured, but Harry couldn't place the voice. Elrond ignored them.

"So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of The Ring."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable (and copyrighted) characters and plots belong to their respectful owners. I'm just taking them out for a walk.

**A/N:** I can't even express to you the trouble I had with this. First, I started and re started about three times before settling on this, and I'm still not overly fond of this chapter. Secondly, I'd nearly finished when my laptop crashed and everything I'd written was lost. Thirdly, I have had the most stressful last few months that I had no energy or will to sit down and work on this. But I've rested up while on winter break, and decided to get this out to you guys, who have been waiting ever so patiently and wonderfully for this chapter. Thanks so much everyone, for your patience and support, it means the world.

Also, Happy Holidays, whatever you celebrate! I'm so thankful to have such wonderful readers this holiday season. I hope this chapter is a suitable enough gift for you.

**Chapter 14: Restless Waiting**

"This is ridiculous. We should have left _weeks_ ago."

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed, trying to hide himself behind a book he was attempting to read. Potter's whinging and moaning was annoying at the best of times, but now Draco didn't have the luxury of fleeing to the Slytherin common room, and was instead stuck listening to it. At least, though, he had Granger and Weasley on his side, as the pair seemed just as annoyed with their friend as Draco usually was. Much as he disliked the Golden Trio, it was a pleasant change of pace.

Hermione looked up, an expression of forced patience on her face "I know Harry, but Aragorn said it would be a while before we could leave."

"Sitting here isn't getting anything done, Hermione."

Ron spoke up, glancing warily at his impatient friend from across the chess game they'd been playing, "Yeah, but going out and getting killed by Wraiths won't get much done either."

"We have Gandalf with us." Potter argued.

Draco groaned and dropped his book, giving up on a relaxing evening "And Gandalf told us that even if we did outrun the Nine, they'd just trail us all the way to the gates of Mordor, which, I shouldn't have to remind you, is the opposite of what we want."

Hermione lowered the map she'd been attempting to memorize "We're trying to sneak into Mordor, and if those awful Wraiths know where we are they'll just get reinforcements. Or warn Sauron."

"Also the opposite of what we want."

"Yes," Harry ground out from between clenched teeth "_thank_ _you_, Malfoy, I get it."

"So stop whinging and play your bloody chess game like a good little boy or I'll make you sit in the corner."

Harry opened his mouth to retort but Ron interrupted in a likely attempt to avoid an argument "What're you reading so much for Malfoy? Ever since the meeting you and Hermione have done nothing but read. It's a bit unhealthy, really..."

"Would you prefer," Hermione asked stiffly "that we go play chess with Gandalf or stuff our faces with copious amounts of food like the two of you have?"

Draco nodded idly "Certainly that must be a better way to spend time than learning something."

"Because you're so interested in education, Malfoy." Harry replied.

"No, I am interested in survival, Potter." Draco shot back "In case you haven't noticed, the four of us are completely out of our depth here. Even you, Mr. He-Who-Must-Get-Into-Trouble-At-Least-Once-A-Year couldn't luck your way out of danger here. And there's no Dumbledore to save you now."

"I don't see your Dad anywhere either, Malfoy." Ron countered.

"Nor yours, Weasley, which is exactly why I am taking a page out of Granger's book, loathe as I am to admit it, and am trying to learn something."

Hermione nodded "You two could really benefit from reading some of this."

"How?" Ron replied, moving a chess piece "We're wizards."

"As if that'll solve all our problems." Hermione replied "Remember when you and Draco tried to fight the Wraiths? Your magic didn't work."

Ron shrugged "A simple flame spell-"

"Which you didn't think of until Harry and I showed up." she pointed out. "If we'd been a few minutes late you two would have-"

"Can we please avoid talking about our near death experience?" Draco asked "I have a very serious aversion to death."

Hermione rolled her eyes "Anyways, you know how to fight them _now._ What if we run into something else that's resistant to magic? How're you going to fight it, hmm?"

"Ask you what to do." Ron said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And if Granger's not there?" Draco argued "Or she's too distracted to save your hide, as usual." Before Ron could reply Draco continued "What's a warg?"

"Er-"

"It's a-"

"No. Stuff it Granger, stop answering questions for him."

"But I may as well-" she argued plaintively.

Draco rose from his seat and turned to face her, though he could barely see her or the table she was seated at for all the books and papers she had scattered across it "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't the classroom. This isn't going to be on a test or the subject of a term paper, Granger, this is life or death."

"I understand that Draco, but-"

"No, you obviously don't." he snapped. "None of you do, and of all people the three of you should get it. We. Could. _Die_. Forget getting back to Hogwarts in time for the end of year exams," he looked at Harry "forget getting back in time to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! We know absolutely nothing about this world. _Nothing_, thanks to the Ministry, and that could get us killed." he turned back to Ron "What is a warg?"

Ron didn't respond, obviously understanding the severity of the question now. At home, they had a library they could refer to. Dumbledore was always there to provide back up and support, or another professor. Within the walls of Hogwarts, there was relative safety and support. Stability. They knew that world, he'd been raised in it, and there was always an answer. They knew how to fight other wizards, because they knew at least a handful of the spells they'd be facing and there was always one, like _protego_ or _expelliarmus_, that could be used as a universal fall back, and those were first year spells. But here? Their magic might not necessarily work. The Wraiths were either too powerful to be affected by their spells, or at least the ones they had used, or had some sort of protection against it. They weren't immune to it, which was a relief, but what if something out there was? What if it was bigger and nastier? Draco was right, they didn't know anything about this world and that ignorance could get them killed.

"Do you know?" He asked, and both Ron and Harry shook their heads.

Draco snatched a book off a nearby table, flipped through it and turned it to face them. On the page were rough, colored sketches of two large, canine like creatures, but they were easily the size of a horse, and likely smarter and faster. One was hyena like, the other more like a wolf, but both had large, gaping jaws filled with jagged, razor sharp teeth. Ron swallowed hard.

"According to this they're remarkably intelligent, and have a basic understanding of The Black Speech." Draco took the book back, flipped through a few more pages and turned it back to them, "This you two should recognize."

Ron and Harry both relaxed and Draco raised an eyebrow "It's a troll." Ron said "Trolls we can fight."

"Particularly if we're outside." Hermione interjected, standing to join them "The ones here turn to stone in the sunlight."

"Some do." Draco corrected, flipping a page and pointing to a place in the margins where someone had added a note, but it was in Elvish "Lord Elrond added this note. He says there's reason to believe that Sauron has been creating trolls capable of moving in sunlight."

"Well," Hermione lowered her voice, though they were the only ones listening "we know he succeeds at that much."

"What about wargs?" Ron asked, taking the book from Draco and flipping back "We don't have any of those."

"Don't we?" Draco replied "Werewolves."

Hermione clicked her tongue and Ron and Harry scowled, but Hermione replied "They have werewolves here too, but they're remarkably rare. Probably because there's so much persecution against them. Wargs we don't have."

Draco eyed the picture on the page and frowned "Father has a rug in his study that looks remarkably similar to... oh."

"I guess we know what happened to them then." Harry said.

"Better off I'd say." Ron said "They're right ugly beasts."

"And you two had no idea what they were until I pointed them out." Draco said "And that's only scratching the surface." He tossed the book onto the chess table between them, scattering pieces. "Granger and I might not always be there to be your walking encyclopedias. Get reading."

"We can't possibly learn everything there is to learn, Malfoy." Harry argued.

"Of course not, Potter, but getting a better feel for things is a far cry from running in blindly."

Ron frowned at the ruined game, though Harry looked a little relieved, and said "Wouldn't it be easier to ask Gandalf or Str-... Aragorn, or one of them?"

Draco shook his head "You really aren't getting it are you? _We_ _don't belong here_. This is _not_ our world, and we have to be careful what we say and do. Why do you think time-turners were so heavily regulated and then destroyed? Ghastly things happen to wizards who meddle with time. We can't rely on the others, we have to be ready to help ourselves." His eyes narrowed "So I suggest you two get reading. I'm not going to get killed just because you blithering idiots don't know what you're doing."

Ron snorted, but picked the book up off the chess table and nodded "Alright, _alright_, calm down, ferret-face, we'll start studying."

And they did. Every evening for the next week Harry and the others would gather a stack of books from Lord Elrond's study and would pour through them, reading as much as they could, though Ron skimmed more than he actually read. Frodo and the hobbits joined them some nights, sneaking food from the kitchens to nibble on while everyone read and compared notes, but during the day Sam insisted the four wizards join them in wandering around Rivendell and meeting the elves. Arwen, in particular, was always happy to lead the group around on a tour or answer any questions they had. She was the friendliest of the elves by far, and always went out of her way to make the group feel welcome and comfortable, much like her father, but the other elves around Rivendell were less friendly. The group from Mirkwood seemed particularly standoffish, and Legolas spoke to them as little as he possibly good and often times in clipped tones. Harry, Ron, and Hermione chalked it up to his being concerned over the upcoming journey, and so thought little of it, but Draco didn't seem to agree and spent a fair portion of his time eavesdropping on the Mirkwood elves, often getting caught and dragged back to their rooms by an annoyed Gandalf or Aragorn. A week later Draco's most recent scolding the four were sitting in their chambers, reading quietly and snacking on a plate of fruit Merry and Pippin had pinched for them when the quiet was interrupted by a brisk knock on the door.

Before Hermione could stand to open it, being the closest, the door opened and Legolas stepped in, looking as stern as ever. He cut Hermione's greeting off bluntly "The Nine have been located, far out of our path. Scouts report that they are returning to Mordor to recover strength. We are to leave tomorrow at first light. Be ready."

"Thank you-" the door shut behind him, interrupting Hermione's thanks. "Well," she continued "Let's get ready to go then." She retreated into the bedroom and came back out with a rather small leather bag, clearly of elvish make if the swirling, vine-line designs on it were any indication, and started scooping up books.

"Uh, Hermione?" Harry said, gaping at her incredulously with Ron "I'm not sure we should be taking all those books."

"Oh it's alright, Lord Elrond gave these to me." she beamed "He said he'd already read them and was happy to see someone appreciate them so much, so he let me have them as a gift. He's quite generous."

Harry lifted his eyebrows "That's not what I meant. Books are heavy. We don't have room in that little bag for all those-" he stopped, mouth gaping, as Hermione dumped her armful of books into the bag and they disappeared without making so much as a dent in the leather.

Harry blinked owlishly and Draco sighed. "It's enchanted, you nitwit." he looked at Hermione "Undetectable Extension Charm?"

"Yes," she said, her arm hidden up to the shoulder by the bag, which was not nearly large enough by the looks of it "it was a bit tricky, but I finally managed to get it right. There's also a charm to manage the weight, otherwise we couldn't lift the thing." she looked at him "Any books you'd like to add?"

He shook his head "I think I'll let you manage. You might want to ask the others if they have anything to put in. Get in their good graces."

She frowned at him quizzically "Why should we worry about that? They all seem friendly enough, on their own anyways." There was the sound of toppling books and Hermione frowned "Oh bother, I had them all organized..."

Ron stood up and moved over to Hermione to peer into the bag "What else have you got in there?"

"Oh, just some changes of clothes for now. I'll be adding food and a few potions I've had brewing in the kitchens tonight, and probably a few more books..."

Harry turned to Draco while they talked "Why should we worry about getting on everyone's good side?"

Draco set down the book he'd been flipping through and frowned as Hermione summoned it with her wand and stuffed it into the bag "I don't know if you've noticed, but Legolas doesn't seem all that keen to have us along, and neither does Boromir for that matter." He eyed Hermione's bag and continued "Then again, Boromir might not be all that keen on having his things in a magical bag... Maybe you shouldn't bother Granger?"

Hermione shook her head "Don't be silly, Draco, of course I'll ask the others. It's only fair. I'd offer to add the charm to their bags as well, but we only need the one."

"The more supplies the better though, eh?" Ron suggested.

"The more supplies the slower we go, charmed for weight or not." Draco argued "And besides, I don't think it's wise to get chummy with this lot."

Hermione frowned, halfway through stuffing yet another book into the bag "Why ever not?"

"We're not staying here, Granger. This isn't a permanent move and the sooner we get home the happier I'll be, frankly."

"Well, of course, Draco, but while we're here we should make the most of it."

"'Sides," Harry added, peering into the bag in fascination "we might need to be on friendly terms if we're to get out of here alive and in one piece."

"I'm not saying lob spells or rocks at them, just... keep your distance, all of you. The more attached you get the harder it'll be to leave." Draco stretched and turned towards the bedroom "I'm turning in. If we're leaving at dawn, I want to be plenty rested. I suggest you lot do the same."


End file.
